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toomanystoriessolittletime · 11 months

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Girls' night

Summary: It's been a while since you went out with the girls. One of your friends telling you about a Tik Tok challenge she saw about having sex with your partner every single day for a month leaves you even more confused when your friend tells you how hard it has been for her to have that much sex every single day. A problem you definitely not have since meeting and marrying Frankie.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 2.3k

Rating: E

Warnings: smut (unprotected sex, ass play, masturbation, public sex, car sex) fluff, alcohol, married life, drunk horny reader, humorous

A/N: I have read this fic so often the words are becoming meaningless to me lol Hope you enjoy though!

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It had been a good while since your last girls night out.

Life happened and in what felt like a matter of years almost all of your friends got married or had kids. It’s why you were looking forward to today. You hadn’t seen most of the girls since Emily’s wedding.

You had spent the last hour getting ready. Taking a long shower, shaving your legs (and… everything else because you felt like it), moisturising. Now you were standing at the sink, putting the finishing touches to your make up, your lips lined sinfully red.

Rubbing your lips against some tissue to set the colour you heard a whistle from behind you, your eyes finding your husbands in the mirror as he leaned in the doorway.

“You look… fuck I am so lucky you married me,” Frankie grinned as he walked over to you, his arms wrapping around you from behind, crowding you against the sink.

“Mhhh you just say that because my boobs are out,” you hummed, reaching for some lotion, to massage it into the soft skin of your breasts, when his hands stopped you, reaching for the lotion himself. He put some on his hands before he slowly began to rub it into your skin, squeezing your breasts softly, his lips kissing your shoulder.

“You caught me,” he murmured with a smile against your skin, kissing himself up your neck, his hands making sure to massage the lotion thoroughly into your breasts, his fingers playing with your nipples. His beard was scratching over your skin and you sighed, leaning back against him, closing your eyes.

Frankie and you got married almost two years ago. And you were still waiting for the honeymoon phase to be over. All of your friends who got married told you that reality set in more quickly than they thought, telling you you had to actively work on your marriage every single day. Some even were glad to get out of the house for a couple hours just to get away from them.

It wasn’t like that with you and Frankie.

If your wedding changed anything between you, it only made you closer.

“How long until you have to leave?” he hummed. You looked at your phone.

“25 minutes?” you sighed, tilting your head to give him more space, his lips wandering up.

“More than enough time to make you cum,” he playfully bit into your neck, his hands pulling at the towel that was wrapped around your hips, letting it fall to the ground, leaving you completely naked and making you giggle.

He groaned, both of his hands resting on your hips as he rubbed his bulge against your ass.

“Can’t ruin my make-up though, think you can do that?” you asked.

“That’s okay,” he cooed and you turned your head over your shoulder to look at him. You felt his fingers between your legs, dipping between your folds..

“Gonna ruin this pussy instead,” he winked before he kissed you.

You were…. Fashionably late. Frankie had driven you into the city, kissing you goodbye and making you promise to call him no matter how late it would get to pick you up. He’d meet up with the Miller brothers to watch some sports game you were definitely not interested in.

You got out of the car, looking over your shoulder to find him winking at you before you turned away and walked towards the bar, feeling him dripping into your panties. The glow on your skin was definitely his doing.

You found your friends deep in the back of the bar, drinks already in front of them.

“There you are!” one of them said with a grin before all four of them got up to hug and welcome you.

“Sorry for running late, next round is on me,” you said with a smile once you sat down.

“Yeah. Why are you late?”

You grinned to yourself.

“Frankie had to… show me something,” you said, grabbing the menu as they all snickered.

“Was he successful?”

You looked up and smirked.

“He always is,” you winked, making them holler, before you ordered a martini.

“Jack and I are doing this challenge I saw on tik tok,” your friend Emily said almost two hours later. You were pleasantly buzzed, currently chewing on some garlic bread sticks you already had ordered to take some home later for Frankie.

“What kind of challenge?” Char, to your left, asked.

“Sex everyday for one month,” Emily said and sighed as if exhausted. You grabbed your glass to drink something to hide your frown at her reaction.

“Shit. Every day?” Char asked. Emily nodded.

“We’re at week two and I am exhausted,” she sighed and all the women around you snickered.

“Ben and I could never. Not with three kids around,” Char said, Tanja nodding beside her.

“Once a week is already a challenge. And I’m so fucking tired all the time. I’m surprised I didn’t fall asleep on you all,” Tanja laughed and you nodded.

Once a week?

A challenge to have sex every day?

Didn’t Emily only get married at the end of last year?

People challenged themselves for sex and were… exhausted? Meanwhile here you were, trying to remember the last day you hadn’t had sex with Frankie…

Even when you were on your period you two were just like a bunch of horny teenagers.

The last time the two of you didn’t have sex was probably when he was teaching flight students in another state and had been gone for a week. That was months ago. But since then… You may not have him inside of you every day but you were intimate. Every single day. Sometimes more than once.

You had zoned out of the conversation, almost jumping when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“You okay?” Char asked. You nodded slowly.

“What about you?” Emily asked.

“What about me?” you asked.

“You’ve been married for two years, right?” You smiled as you nodded.

“So how often do… you and Frankie….”

“She wants to know how often you get laid,” Tanja asked and you chuckled nervously.

“I mean we all know you got some just before you got here, but like…”

You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Honestly?” you asked.

They all nodded.

“Frankie and I don't need a month-long challenge to have sex every single day,” you winked and they all stared at you before they giggled.

Frankie was already outside waiting when you all stumbled out of the bar. You said your goodbye’s, ignoring the whistles behind you as Frankie got out of the car to open the passenger's seat for you. You pulled your arm behind his neck to kiss him, making him chuckle against your lips while he pulled you closer, walking you back until your back was pressed against the car..

“Hey baby,” he mumbled with a grin before he helped you into the car. He had offered to drive your friends home too, but they had already gotten an uber since they were living on the other side of town.

“Had fun?” Frankie asked, taking your hand once he started the car and pulled out of the parking space. You nodded, bringing his hand up to kiss the back of it.

“They think we’re strange,” you mumbled and Frankie looked at you with an amused smile.

“Why?”

“Because we have too much sex. Apparently.”

“What?” he laughed.

“Em and her husband are doing a month long daily sex challenge and she already hates it even though they’re only two weeks in. Two weeks!” you cried out in disbelief.

“Hey nothing against a healthy sex life. If they don’t like it, they don’t. I happen to like sex and find my wife very sexy,” he leaned over at the next red light, kissing you. You smiled, sighing against his lips.

“I love you, so so much baby. You are so cute and sexy and you have the bestest cock,” you cooed with a dreamy grin and he laughed.

“The bestest?” he asked.

“Out of everyone on this planet,” you nodded and he grinned.

“I love you too, my tipsy wife,” he chuckled, taking your hand to press his lips to the back of it.

“Not tipsy,” you pouted.

“No?”

“No. I’m sooooo drunk. Drunk and so fucking horny baby,” you sighed, one of your hands slowly pulling your skirt up.

“I still have all your cum in my panties. I’m such a whore,” you giggled, your fingers slowly pulling down your panties. You grabbed them from the floor, throwing them at Frankie.

“Fuck baby. We’ll be home in ten minutes. Think you can wait that long?” Frankie asked. You turned your head to look at him as your hand slipped between your legs.

“Nuh uh,” you shook your head, your fingers playing with yourself.

A honk behind you made Frankie jump, before he took a deep breath and began to drive.

Sucking your bottom lip in you pushed two fingers inside of you, moaning quietly.

“Shit, baby…” Frankie cursed, his head focused on the road, his eyes peeking to you every couple seconds or so, the vein on his neck almost pulsing.

“Let me taste….” he groaned and you grinned, bringing your soaked fingers to hip mouth, pushing your fingers between his lips. He moaned.

You let your other hand linger on his crotch, slowly unbuckling his belt.

The car stopped and he killed the engine. You looked around finding yourself in what looked like the woods. Not that you cared where you were. You just wanted….

“Get on top of me,” Frankie ordered. He pulled his seat back before he pushed his pants down to reveal his hard cock. Within seconds you were in his lap, your hand reaching for his cock to line him up as you sank down on him, both of you groaning in relief.

“That what you needed?” he hummed, as you released a content moan. His hands were on your hips, his lips against your throat as you closed your eyes, enjoying that first delightful stretch of his cock inside your walls.

He thrusted up into you and you opened your eyes, your lips parting before you looked down at him. You pulled his cap from his head, your fingers running through his hair before you leaned down to kiss him deeply.

You pulled your arms around his neck while you slowly began to move on top of him.

Your right knee was digging into something against the car door and your head was bumping against the roof everytime you moved, but you didn’t care.

“Make yourself cum on my cock baby,” Frankie pulled at the front of your dress, revealing your bra. His lips closed around the lacy material over your nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

“Make yourself cum so I can drive you home and take my time with you…” his hands were now on your ass, kneading the flesh as you rode him.

“Gonna eat your pussy until you beg me to stop….” he bit into your breast and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself from crying out.

“And when you beg me for my cock I’m gonna cum in this sweet perfect pussy….” he moved his hips, thrusting up into you and you moaned, arching your back, your head falling back.

“Or maybe you don’t want me to cum in your pussy but in your tight little ass,” you felt one of his fingers rub over your puckered hole.

“Oh shit….” you cried out.

“Cum for me baby…” he hummed and you looked down at him, meeting his eyes all while he moved his hips to meet yours.

“Cum for me and I’ll fuck your ass once we’re home,” he cooed and even though you had felt your orgasm building for the last minutes, you were surprised how hard you came just seconds after.

“Shit you’re so tight when you cum….” he groaned, his arms now pulling you close against his chest, holding you upright as you shook through your orgasm.

You let your head fall against his neck, breathing him in deeply, feeling him still hard deep inside of you as he waited for you to come down from your high.

“I really love your cock,” you mumbled with a smile and he laughed.

“I love all the rest of you even more,” you added, finally looking at him.

“I love you too,” he smiled softly, kissing your nose.

“You didn’t cum,” you noticed and he smirked.

“Told you, I’m gonna cum in your ass baby,” he kissed you and you sighed against his lips.

You stayed in his arms for some minutes more before he carefully helped you off his lap and back into the passenger's seat. You pulled your dress up while he managed to put his pants back on.

“Don’t you fall asleep on me until we’re home,” he teased, kissing you softly before pulling the seat back and turning on the engine, beginning to drive home.

He wasn’t even back on the road when you fell asleep.

How you got into the house and into bed was very blurry but you woke up in the early morning hours in his arms in your bed.

Deciding to wake him up in a couple of hours with your mouth around his cock.

#my fic #Frankie morales #frankie morales x female reader #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #francisco morales

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softpascalito · 5 months

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Worth crossing a blizzard for - Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: During shooting for The Last of Us, a snowstorm hits Canada, essentially forcing Pedro to take the day off. Turns out its not as bad as he thinks.

Relationships: Pedro Pascal x Reader WC: 1600 Tags/Warnings: MDNI, RPF, Real-Person-Fiction, Non-Explicit Sex, showering together, Gender-neutral Reader, Snow, blizzard, Crew Reader, The Last of Us Shooting, Canada, Kissing, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Pedro Pascal, Healthy Relationships, Secret Relationship Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: i haven't written pedro in sooo long, i miss him. needless to say, this is the lil version i created of him in my head and not necesarily an accurate representation of his actual personality <3 also, this is another lil entry for stephs winter writing challenge with the trope warmth, i highly recommend checking the entire list if youre interested :) (@toomanystoriessolittletime)

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It starts with a light snowfall, little white particles floating through the air, rushing past the car as he drives back from set and a small sigh escapes his lips. It's been snowing on and off for weeks, usually meaning an earlier calltime for everyone, to make sure the locations can be cleared from the thin layer of snow if needed.

The wind has picked up by the time Pedro reaches the apartment that has been his home for the last few weeks and when he steps out of the shower half an hour later, the light snowfall has developed into a full-on blizzard, complete with cars honking in the streets below and his phone vibrating angrily, demanding attention. A rushed glance as he gets dressed confirms his suspicions. There's several warnings of severe weather, most of them due to hit tonight.

A gentle knock on the front door lets the man whip around and a small frown builds on his forehead as he crosses the hallway, taking a quick glance through the peephole. He practically yanks the door open.

You have your coat wrapped tightly around yourself, a knitted hat drawn down to your ears and a scarf wrapped around your neck. The two latter are practically soaked, decorated with little white crystals all over that are beginning to melt in the slightly warmer air of the hallway and dripping down onto the door mat.

Pedro stays still for a moment, taking in your form in front of him, before his brain registers what's going on. He reaches out, pulling you into the apartment, “What the hell were you thinking?”

The door closes behind you and the frown that decorated Pedros face a moment ago is now appearing on yours, “I- What?” For a split second you wonder if he's mad. He rarely gets a day off and even when he does, he usually spends it doing something, unable to just sit and relax, even for a little while. Maybe he's made plans for tonight and you've just crashed them.

“You can't be walking around in a blizzard like this, look at yourself,” he tuts, helping you take your wet coat off along with the hat and scarf and maneuvering them into the bathroom to hang them up to dry. You take your boots off carefully, gaze never leaving the man in front of you, “It's barely a twenty minute walk.”

“You're telling me you didn't even get a taxi?” He asks as he returns to the hallway and watches you put your shoes onto a small shoe tray.

“Does it look like I got a taxi?” You shoot back, getting a little irritated with how concerned he is. Immediately, Pedros gaze softens a bit and a small grumble escapes his throat as he takes a step forward, bringing his fingers up to your hair to carefully pick a snowflake out of it.

It melts between his fingers.

“No, you don't,” he muses, smiling a little sheepishly. “You could've called me. I would've picked you up.” You can't help but chuckle a little at that, “I did call you. You didn't pick up. The phone, I mean.” He stares at you for a moment, then back at his phone that has at least a dozen unread messages, then back to you, “Fuck, I- I was taking a shower, guess I didn’t hear-”

“It's fine,” you promise gently, standing on your tiptoes to place a small kiss on his cheek. Pedro sighs a little, taking in the way you’re looking at him and eventually nodding as he leads you further into the small apartment. It's spacious for one person but cozy for two, production of course not having calculated that you would be here too. You tried to stick to only sleeping over on weekends for a while, arguing that Pedro needed his rest and a quiet environment to go over his lines. He argued back that he slept a lot better with you beside him.

“You want a coffee?” He offers and you nod yes, following him to the open kitchen and hopping onto the counter as he grabs a mug for you.

“So you haven't read it yet?” You ask, rubbing your hands together in an effort to warm them up. “Read what?” His back is to you, the sound of the coffee machine starting almost drowning out his words.

“Shoot is canceled for tomorrow. Probably until next week.”

Something about your tone makes him turn around to face you. He's in front of you a second later, hands resting on your waist as he studies your face, “And you're not happy about that?”

“Why would I? It sets us back at least two days and were already behind, at this rate reshoots-”

Pedro hums a little and squeezes your waist, causing you to fall quiet.

“I don't like it either but-”

You cut him off before you can stop yourself, shaking your head as you speak and lowering your gaze towards the floor, “It's just really bad timing and I have so much to do already and-”

“Hey, look at me.”

He squeezes again, a little harder this time, and one hand comes up to nudge your chin until you're looking right at him. You find soft brown eyes, the little patch in his beard you like so much and hair that's still a little damp from showering.

“It's snow. You can't do anything about snow.”

You let your head fall forward again, letting out a small sigh, “Yeah, I know.” Pedro gently brings his arms around you, holding you close for a moment. The coffee machine beeps, signaling that it's done. But he doesn't let go yet, rubbing your back a little instead.

“The way I see it,” he starts. “We may as well enjoy our night in. Even if it wasn't exactly planned. Plus, there's no way in hell I'll let you go back out there anyway.”

He does have a point. And a night off, especially a night off for both of you, doesn't sound too bad, even if it's constricted to the small apartment you're sitting in.

As soon as your coffee is empty and a few urgent messages are replied to, Pedro insists on a shower to warm you up. You're halfway to the bathroom before you turn around with a small smile on your face, “You're gonna let me shower alone?”

“I just showered,” Pedro replies almost automatically, putting your mug away. Then, he catches the small twinkle in your eye.

“You just showered,” you repeat, the smile still decorating your face and Pedro nods a few times before getting into motion.

“I guess I could do with another one.”

For once, there's no rush. You take your time, with the shower and everything that it includes. You spend what feels like a solid five minutes kissing afterwards, already scrubbed clean and so, so content. The air is steamy when you step out of the shower and Pedro really does treat you to the full experience, insisting on applying your lotion for you.

You hum contently as he gently massages it into your back, your muscles tingling with relief. He chuckles softly behind you, “Feeling a little warmed up already?”

“More than a little. Don't know how you do it.”

You lightly slap his ass on the way to the bedroom.

After securing your favorite sweater of his and some sweatpants, you find yourself in the kitchen again, rummaging through the cupboards to figure out what to cook up with the scarce ingredients available. You both usually eat on location or get some takeout on the way home, not to speak of the lack of cooking skill you both possess.

It ends up being pasta with some leftover greens and tomatoes and for once, you could swear it tastes ten times better than whatever takeout you could've gotten. You're cuddled up on the couch, staring out into the dark, gusts of snow still blowing past the window. The traffic jams have calmed down, the people returned to their houses to find shelter from the cold. Only a few lost ones are still wandering around, no doubt with a goal that justifies a walk through the conditions. You understand them.

Pedro watches a man disappear around the corner and swallows his mouthful of pasta, “Are you sure you didn't catch a cold?”

You smile weakly, “ Even if I did, it would be worth it. I'd trade a cold for a night off with you. You know that.” He chuckles a little, tilting his head slightly, “Just saying, it may be a little on the nose for both of us to get sick at the same time.”

You raise a brow as you finish your plate and gently put it down before cuddling into Pedro’s side, drawing your legs up onto the couch, “There's a blizzard. It's not that on the nose.”

The snowflakes landing on the window stay there for a few moments, glistening in the dim light from inside the apartment before the warmth seems to reach through the glass. One by one, they turn into small drops of water.

He considers your words for a moment before nodding, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right.” His arm wraps around you, pulling you in a little more as you rest your head against his shoulder. He leans down to plant a small kiss on your head and you hum contently, smiling to yourself.

The snowflakes melt on the window pane. You melt in Pedros arms.

Your voice is only a mumble.

“Besides- you can't do anything about snow.”

notes: hey babes! im considering a second part to this so let me know if that's something you'd like <3

#pedropascaladventcalender #softpascalitosadventcalendar #pedro pascal / reader #pedro pascal / you #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #gender-neutral reader #christmas #snow #fluff #softpascalito #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #rpf #real person fiction #stephswinterwritingchallenge

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zoeykallus · 8 months

Note

Hm? A note?

*opens the note and reads*

“I kindly request a Pheromones but with Tech with a mix of predator and prey into this nasty smut. But if you do not want to do this that is fine with me your majesty.”

Finally! Someone's asking me for unhinged Tech Smut 🔥🤩🔥🥵 I feel like I've waited for this one for years 😱

And I had so much trouble writing and editing my draft 😅😭 A lot of hours later: "I'm not happy with what I did here 😓

Warnings: SMUT/Sex Pollen Trope/Unhinged Tech/ Shy Tech Turning Feral/Dubious Consent(!11!1!!)/PiV/Oral/Groping/Biting/Pining/Pinning Down/Restraining/Plus Short Dirty Dream Sequence/Angsty/Creampie/Messy/Fluff (Believe it or not)18+

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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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>Master List<

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AC: This is very feral Tech, Reader is definitely having fun, but there are possible triggers, so mind the warnings!!! This one is dancing heavily on some very thin lines concerning consent and pleasure/pain. I wasn't even sure if I should post this. Guess there was a lot of pent-up smutty stuff left in my mind about this guy. Okay I tamed the original version down, a good bit, I think it was a tiny bit too much. But still, this is pretty messy.

Update: damn it, I changed this draft so often now, I don't know if it's still readable...

_____________________

Wrecker, who playfully bumps into his helmet, nearly knocks Tech off balance. Tech glares angrily at his brother through the lenses of his goggles, but finally sighs and turns back to his holopad. Again and again, his gaze sneaks from his holopad to you, watching Hunter talk to you. Today, you and Tech are to complete a mission, just the two of you. A more or less simple exploration tour. His heart beats faster just thinking about it. You've been traveling with CF99 for a while now, and Tech has had a crush on you practically since day one. You smell good, you're pretty, you're curious, and you always listen to him so intently. He's been blown away from the beginning by your little laugh, the smile, the way you talk, how your fingers move when you're lost in your thoughts. Tech takes in so many little things, by now he knows so much about you, so many wonderful little things that he admires, almost idolizes. But as straightforward and logical as Tech actually is, he can be just as shy.

He hardly dares to exchange a word with you that has nothing to do with work, he hardly dares to look you in the face. So often he has dreamed of you, of touching, kissing and even more, things that have done wild things to his mind and hormones. But he can't bring himself to do it, just doesn't dare touch you. So many times he had been close to just gently touching your hand, or sliding a little closer when you were sitting next to each other, but each time he has backed down. Tech wouldn't know how to deal with you, in theory he's already read everything there is to know about intimacy, romance and the like, but the practice is somehow so damn seductive but also so incredibly scary for him. What if you reject him? What if he kisses you, and it's bad? What if you feel nothing when he kisses you? What if his touches leave you cold? What if he does something wrong, scares you away, or leaves you unsatisfied? With all these questions, his guts tighten, and a heavy pressure builds on his chest. This is a challenge that can't necessarily be tackled with logic. Love doesn't really feel logical, but it feels intense, Tech thinks silently. Another light bump against Tech's helmet snaps him out of his thoughts.

"Cut it out, Wrecker!" "Come on, you two finally alone again? This time you have some guts!" the giant rumbles. Tech hastily glances over at you, but you're still engaged in conversation with Hunter, then he looks at Wrecker and nervously waves his holopad around. "Keep it down, Wrecker, she can't hear this!" he whispers energetically. Wrecker rolls his eyes and laughs softly, "You're way too nervous, I think she likes you a lot too" Tech pauses in his tense movement and asks, "Oh yeah, did she say anything?" "No, but that one particular smile, she only smiles at you like that". Tech's gaze darts back in your direction and that's when he sees it, that smile, his face gets all hot, and he hastily turns back to the holopad in his hands. "You're such an idiot," Wrecker grumbles, "She's smiling heavenly at you, and you're staring at your holopad" "Shut up, please, Wrecker," Tech says tensely.

The others are on their way, doing their jobs. Tech is finally alone with you. His knees are soft, he feels slightly shaky, and his pulse is permanently slightly elevated, but he's more in control than he suspected. Tech puts on the helmet he customized for you and says, "This helmet has an air filter, just like mine. We don't know what to expect yet, so we'll play it safe." He explains as you look at him questioningly through the visor. He can't really see your face, but he always senses when you look at him. Actually he is annoyed about the helmet, just because he can't see your beautiful face, but Tech also wants to protect you and when you are moving among unknown flora and fauna, this helmet is actually indispensable. "Okay," you say, groping for the helmet with both hands, an unfamiliar feeling. "Don't take the helmet off outside, please," Tech says gently but firmly, "We don't know much about the plants and animals in the area yet" You give him a thumbs up and say, "Okay, got it. We're good to go as far as I'm concerned" Along the way, you carefully take some samples of various plants, take holo-images of the environment, and look at various species of animals from a safe distance. You listen with fascination as Tech comments on some of your observations. It's so nice to spend time alone with him, you like the way he looks out for you.

You discover a cave that is riddled with glowing crystals and mushrooms. You put on your gloves because Tech told you to. "We'd better not touch anything with our bare hands for now," he notes. You nod and reply, "Sounds reasonable." With a gloved finger, you poke a neon-red glowing, thick mushroom, which then begins to blink and emit a thin cloud of spores. Tech leans over and says, "See, this is why we have the helmets, we don't know what these spores might do, hallucinations, fevers, toxic reactions..." You nod and say still intrigued, "It's blinking, like an alarm light" "Indeed" Tech looks at his watch and says, "We've been walking for a few hours, maybe we should head back" With a nod, you agree and follow him out of the cave.

Something is wrong, he is way too warm, the outside temperatures are not that high, but his body temperature seems to keep rising. He feels strange, maybe Wrecker knocked his helmet a few too many times, maybe his filter wasn't working properly. Tech quickened his steps, and you tried to keep up with him in surprise. Arriving at the Marauder, Tech takes off his helmet, and you can tell something is wrong, the expression on his face, that slightly glazed look. "Are you okay?" "I don't know," Tech admits, "I'm very warm, and I have a headache." He blinks in surprise as you start to help him take off his gear, but he allows it to happen, he also lets you push him into his bunk and tuck him in. "You must be overworked," you say gently, "You're always working, around the clock. At some point, your body just can't keep up with your mind, Tech." He blinks, accepts the water you brought him, and says, "Maybe you're right." He likes the way you take care of him, fluffing his pillow, covering him up, bringing him water and putting a cool, damp cloth on his forehead. He feels miserable right now, but he literally melts at every little thing you do for him.

"I'm sure a few hours of sleep will do you good," you say with conviction and a soft smile. Tech looks at you from wide, glassy eyes, he gets lost in that smile of yours, and before he can pull himself together he says, "Can you stay here, with me?" "Oh," you say in surprise, "Sure." You lie down in the bunk across from his, barely two steps away from him. Tech turns to the side, so he can look at you. You say with a smile, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you". Tech's ears turn red as he smiles back. At a certain point, you both fall asleep.

His dreams are wild, very wild, much wilder than usual. Intimate dreams are not unknown to him, but this one is very intense. He watches you suck him while his hands on the back of your head give you a wild pace, shortly after he pins you to the floor and plows his hard cock through your pussy while you gasp, sigh, moan and whimper under him. Then he spins you around and shoves his length into the tight little hole between your buns, taking you so fast and hard that the clash of bare skin, echoes loudly off the walls. His hand is in your hair, pulling at it as he thrusts ever more savagely into the tightness of your butt. Tech tears open his eyes, feeling even hotter than before, his thoughts a wild jumble of sexual acts. His cock pulses hard under his blacks, almost painfully. Everything inside him burns and screams to grab you, to take you, to taste you, to fuck you. He moans softly and wipes his forehead, a very small part of him knowing that he's thinking and intending very naughty things right now, that he actually needs to pull himself together. But this small part is lost in the wild, feverish racket of his suddenly felt hundredfold intensified sexual desires.

He is so tense with horniness that a slight tremor goes through his body. He looks over at you, you are still asleep, you are still alone and will probably be for a while. Automatically, almost of his own accord, he takes off his blacks. He looks down at himself, he doesn't see much, it's still dark, but his cock is clearly standing at full size. Against all reason that tries to survive somewhere under the wild chaos of sex thoughts, he walks over to the bunk you are lying in. In between he hesitates, this little part of him is only small, but stubborn. "You can't do that, it's indecent, you'll scare her... it's wrong..." he whispers to himself, and yet he keeps coming closer to you.

You feel someone climb into your bunk or sit on the edge and slowly awaken from your slumber. Your eyes do not immediately adjust to the darkness. You blink, there is someone, in your bunk, you are uncovered and that someone is bent over you. "Tech? Is that you?" you ask, confused and not yet in your right mind. Your fingers grope for the nightlight and turn it on. It's not particularly bright, but enough to clearly see the naked Tech kneeling above you on your bunk. Your gaze lingers briefly on his hard length, thick, long, gently curved, the tip slightly red and swollen, a trickle of precum on the small slit. You look up at him, startled. "What's going on here?" you ask, perplexed, completely bewildered by the unexpected situation. He's not touching you yet, but you can still feel his body heat already. "Tech, you must have a fever- wait what are you doing!" Ignoring your words, Tech reaches under your sleep shirt for the waistband of your panties and sets about pulling them down. "Need you, need to smell you, taste you, feel you," he stammers as if delirious with fever.

When you automatically grab his hands in surprise to stop him, he fends you off and tugs impatiently at the fabric until it tears. You let out a startled little scream as he rips the fabric from your body, and right after that, impatiently, your sleep shirt. His eyes get even bigger behind the lenses as he sees you naked in front of him. "Tech, what are you doing....?" you ask quietly. He grabs your wrists, rips a strip off the sheet and goes to tie your hands together, but you fidget and stubbornly resist. He grabs your hands and pins them down, glaring at you impatiently. "Tech, what the fuck!" "Need you, need you to comply," he says hoarsely. "I don't understand," you say quietly. He looks at you, feverish, almost desperate, "I need to taste you and smell you and feel you, I need to have you!"

His words make you nervous, it doesn't sound like him at all, neither the pitch nor the way he said them.

Tech smells your hair and shivers, as do you. You feel his legs pushing your thighs apart, his pelvis thrusting between them and his cock pressing down on your pubic, rubbing against it. You let out a small surprised moan as the friction drives heat and wetness into your pussy.

He moans softly and repeats, "I need you." You've been into Tech for a while, but this wasn't really Tech, was it? Again he tries to bind your wrists, this time he's faster, and a little rougher, overpowering your flagging resistance and finally tying them to the headboard of the bunk. Your pulse races, your heart hammers in your chest. A startled, surprised squeak comes from your lips as he presses up against you, and dig his teeth into your shoulder, not hard enough to really hurt you, but hard enough to leave pressure marks. He licks over the spot, kissing it as his hands travel down your body. You're hot and cold, thoroughly aroused, but this seems so foreign. His body is burning hot, you are sure he has a fever. You want to tell him that he needs a doctor, but at the same moment his mouth moves to your breasts, and he begins to lick and suck your nipples, his long fingers greedily embracing the soft flesh. Your head is swept clean. You loll under him, sighing softly, he presses his lap into the mattress as he moves down your body, a low rumble coming from his chest as he sucks your nipples and rubs against your body.

Suddenly he rises, kneeling higher over you, his hard cock hovering just in front of your mouth. You blink and look past his hard length up into his face. His hand roughly grips your chin, pushing it higher, then he demands, "Open." Nervously, you open your lips as he finally presses his tip against them, letting him in. Your tongue automatically presses against the underside. You see him shiver, and hear him moan. Admittedly a nice feeling and a delightful sight. But Tech is under pressure, under fire. He grips your head and pushes further until you gag and your eyes tear as he fucks your mouth. His whole body trembles with tension. You stare up at him, having no idea how long you can keep this up or what to do when you can't anymore. But it doesn't take long, you feel him throbbing in your mouth, Tech moans out, then his semen shoots down your throat and mouth. You swallow in surprise as best you can. There's quite a bit. He pulls his cock out of your mouth again. Some of his semen trickles down your chin, but you can't wipe it away because of your bound hands. He keeps moving, his lips and tongue roaming from your breasts down, over your belly, faster and faster, as if they're impatient.

You start breathing faster the closer he gets to the heated triangle between your thighs.

There is something tugging at you, a craving, a want, something you didn't know before you had. It's weird, all of this, yet you feel you want this, you want him.

Then he's finally there, you hear him take a deep breath, feel him shakily expel the air on your wet folds. While you're still shuddering from the soft draft, his mouth is suddenly on your pussy, his tongue heatedly exploring your folds. A surprised squeak escapes you, followed by a gasp as his tongue glides over your pearl, repeating the motion several times in quicker succession. You have no idea how he does it, but his tongue is so nimble and strong, getting wilder and wilder. Your thighs tremble around his head, the gasps from your throat become faster and faster, mixing with hoarse moans. Tirelessly, his tongue flicks over your swollen, pulsating clit, again and again and again. You mewl in arousal, stir in your bonds. The feeling of his soft, wet tongue dancing on your sweet spot, that bundle of nerves is delicious.

He's rutting his cock into the mattress while he licks and sucks your clit, moaning as he does so, humming, muffled by your pussy where you very clearly feel the vibration, an added stimulus. You don't know what's gotten into him, at the moment you can't get a clear thought either. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you think back to the red glowing mushroom in the cave.

No matter how surprised and overwhelmed you are right now, you are also incredibly horny. Your abdomen trembles, your thighs quiver, the tension, the tingling and pulsating is heading towards a climax.

Tech's tongue gets faster, flicks your little clit in rapid fashion. Your abdomen tenses, your walls clench around nothing.

You almost cry out as you tip over the edge into your climax. Tech continues to lick your clit, a little too long, you become hypersensitive, and you jerk under his touch, but his hands grab your hips hard and hold you in place, pushing you into the sheets. He's still rutting his cock into the pad of the bunk, and his tongue finds your dripping opening. A little cry comes over your lips as Tech slips his tongue between your slick walls and wiggles around inside, starting to lick you out like you're candy. He's greedy, and intense and he's making a mess. "TECH!" He growls, not a word, not really a response, just a growl. His nose keeps pressing against your hypersensitive pearl, but every twitch of yours is held in check by his hard grip. "This is too much, Tech, too much!" You see him twitch, another growl, he rolls his glassy, reddened eyes back for a moment. You realize he's cumming in the sheets.

He finally lets go of you for a moment, sits up, somewhat breathlessly wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand and forearm, wipes away your juices and his saliva. His sweaty chest rises and falls heavyly. Tech still looks feverish, his eyes still wild and without focus. "Not enough," he says, slightly hoarse, smoky, "More!" You see that his length is still hard and erect. Then you see his gaze fall between your legs, you automatically want to close your thighs, you don't really want any more over-stimulation, but he pushes himself in between. Automatically, you want to use your hands, but they are still tied to the head of the bunk. Tech lies above you, pressed against you, his body still glowing hot. He seems to be wrestling with himself, hesitating, but only briefly. In the next moment, he has brought his tip to your hole and is penetrating you, parting your moist folds and plunging deep inside you. He's quite long and thick, you feel him stretching and filling you. "Fuck," you curse softly.

It hurts a little, but somehow it also feels so damn good. He's leaning on his hands, hovering half above you, his cock deep inside you. Sweat is on his forehead, his muscles are shaking, his reddened eyes keep blinking. He looks strained. You realize he's trying to hold back right now, but barely managing it.

This is not your sweet and shy Tech.

He starts to move, dragging his cock a bit out of your sensitive entrance, and right after that he pushes forward into you again. Slowly at first, but he gets faster and faster. He half sits up, pulling you to a different angle as he does so he can push deeper inside you. Tech moans, gasps, makes little sounds you've never heard before, every now, and then he stammers words you don't understand. His hips move faster and faster, the sound of naked skin meeting naked skin fills the room. You didn't expect it, but your arousal picks up again and as if Tech sensed it, a hand moves between you and his fingertips, deftly find your pearl. A hoarse sound passes your lips as his cock inside you, as well as his fingers on your clit, speeds up. As if of their own accord, your legs close around his hips as your thighs begin to tremble.

His name comes moaning over your lips, again and again. He stares at you, but his eyes are still so glazed and wild that you don't know if he's really looking at you. A shudder goes through his body, a twitch, then he growls softly, you feel his cock twitch and pulse in your cleft, his warm seed filling your pussy. Every other thrust, accompanied by a squelching sound. Shortly after, the knot in your abdomen loosens, tingling all the way to the tips of your toes. But Tech doesn't stop, he's still hard, thrusting into your pussy filled with his seed. "More," you hear him say in a shaky voice. You moan, "Tech, I can't take anymore." You don't know if he really understood you, perceived the words, but he pulls his cock out of your pussy with a wet smacking sound, grabs your hips and turns you onto your stomach. Your heart races, you're not sure what he's up to. His length is still full of his juices and yours as he pushes it lengthwise between your buns. His hands grip your buns pretty hard and squeeze them together as he begins to rub his cock in the crease between them.

He moans, gasps and trembles. You are glad that he has refrained from sticking it in your ass. Without preparation, that would have been very unpleasant. Tech rubs himself against your buns, panting, trembling. He suddenly slows down, then you feel his warm load splashing on your buns and your back. By now you are full of his cum, in and on you, even the bunk is full of it, everything is sticky. Tech, of all people, who is very conscious of his hygiene, has made this mess. His breath is getting shaky, you hear it, feel his cock finally softening on your buns. "Oh maker... oh no... oh hells no...", you hear him whisper, in his tone a desperation that is hard to overhear. You pull at your bonds and say as calmly as you can, "Please, Tech, untie me." "Oh my goodness, of course, right now.... I'm so sorry... really so sorry..." he continues to stammer and with trembling hands he loosens your bonds. Finally, you can sit up, turn around and look at him. His eyes are back to normal, no longer glassy, nor reddened, but his cheeks and ears are red, and the expression on his face completely desperate and ashamed. He hastily grabs a pillow to cover his crotch as you look at him.

"I'm so sorry," he says softly, almost whispering, barely managing to look at you, his gaze jerking away again and again, "I felt everything, perceived everything, but it was like my body was just a doll, controlled by overwhelming sexual desire...my mind had no control." "I figured something wasn't normal," you say dryly, looking down at yourself, "I'm all sticky," you grumble softly. "Oh maker, please don't hate me now, I couldn't stand that" he says, ducking his head. You laugh softly and say, "I'm never touching any mushrooms near you again". He doesn't feel like laughing, and your attempt to loosen him up unfortunately fails. You say softly, "Tech, well, before all this happened, you and I really liked each other, didn't we? I mean, we were just a little too shy to interact more." Tech blinks and lifts his eyes after all. His cheeks are flushed as he clears his throat and says meekly, "I've been in love with you for a long time, if that's what you mean." You feel heat rising in your cheeks and your heart beating faster. "Yeah, that's what I meant" you say nodding "The feeling was mutual by the way". Tech's eyes grow wide behind his goggles, but then he lowers his gaze again. "I guess I ruined that now".

"No," you contradict him, "you didn't. The fungus has twisted your senses, or whatever you want to call it. Nothing is broken because of it yet." Cautiously, Tech raises his eyes again. "I'd like to make you a proposition," you say softly as he looks at you. Tech nods and says, "I'm all ears." "You and I are going to take a shower together, nice and relaxed. We'll wash, maybe each other, some tender touches, no pressure, no expectation, just enjoy each other's closeness. Some tenderness after this, little disaster?" Tech blinks several times and asks, "You would still let me touch you?" You nod and admit, "It's not like I wasn't having fun at all. Besides, that wasn't really you, but I'd still like to get to know the real Tech better." Tech smiles, stands up and after a moment's hesitation, puts away the pillow he was covering his crotch with. He takes your hand and helps you out of the sticky bunk.

Under the warm stream of water of the shower, you both slowly relax, Tech letting his tension escape with a sigh and smiling at you as you look over your shoulder while he gently washes your back. Tech says tenderly, "You're gorgeous, by the way". Your ears get all hot and a tingle spreads through your stomach as you say, "You're not bad yourself, handsome" Suddenly you hear voices, the boys must be back from their errands. Then you hear a curse and Crosshair yelling loudly, "WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BUNK!!!" You look up with a soft, "Uh oh," at Tech who then whispers, "Oh. That's probably bad." "He's going to kill us," you say, biting your lower lip suppressing a grin, "We really made a hell of a mess." "Indeed," Tech says dryly, "I'd say we stay in here for now until he calms down." "That could take a long time" Tech smiles mischievously, "I don't mind"

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

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moon-goddess-posts · 1 year

Text

Play Fighting

dom! rhea ripley x sub! reader, degration/praise kink, overstimulation, strap on (reader receiving), rough fucking, oral sex (reader receiving), reader sucks rheas strap lol

it’s done guys 😁 also requests are open if you wanna suggest prompts or story ideas. I still need to update my request list tho so after i do that i’ll pin it

“Rhea Ripley! I challenge you to a match!!” You yelled jumping on to the bed. You put your hands on your hips and gave Rhea a wide grin.

“Oh do you now? You think you’ll win?” Rhea was teasing you as she got on the bed as well but you stood your ground.

“mhm! I’m one hundred percent!” you said smiling. Rhea just laughed.

“Ok but if you lose you’ll regret it”

“yeah yeah yeah I don’t care, TAKE THIS!” At full force you swung your right leg trying to aim and Rheas face. Now you were in no way a fighter or had any experience in fighting besides self defense. So expectedly, rhea caught your leg in a swift motion.

“Oh.” You froze and then gave rhea a nervous look trying to get her to free your leg, but she pulled you down and you plopped on the bed. From there she started to pin you down with you struggling to still win.

“And you said you were a hundred percent huh?” Rhea looked at you still struggling and she just snickered.

“ugh you suck” in the middle of struggling you saw an open point right in front of you, rheas stomach. You smiled and rammed your foot into it and Rhea was taken aback, letting you go. You ran away giggling and she was not having it.

“cant catch me!” you laughed only for it to be cut short when two big arms wrapped around your waist.

“noooo let go of me!” You felt yourself being put over rheas shoulder and you slumped in defeat.

“nice try darling, don’t be a sore loser now” She teasingly spoke. You crossed your arms pouting but at least you could enjoy the view in front of you.

“nice ass” you grinned. Rhea just rolled her eyes and ignored you making you laugh even more. Rhea then took you off her shoulder to throw you on the bed. She pinned you once again and you were throwing a fit.

“I refuse to lose!” you yelled.

“dont resist love, once i’m done with you i’ll make sure you’ll never think about challenging me.”

“yeah right!” you bit back. After that you felt hands grip the sides of your neck and you whimpered staring into rheas eyes.

“you wanna fucking try me whore?” rhea forced you to look at her and that finally got you to stop struggling. However you tested her enough today and it was time to face the consequences.

“you sure have a fighting spirit for someone who claims she’s not a fighter” rhea chuckled

“whatever, you never let me win”

“I like the look of you losing to me, now because you lost you have to do anything I say for twenty four hours” rhea smiled

“what! twenty four hou-“

“that means you ask to speak and only do so if I say you can.” rhea squeezed your neck again to get you to stop talking. you nodded your head

“good girl, now you can talk”

“Twenty four hours is too long…” you spoke quietly

“that’s too bad, I know you can do it I won’t make it too difficult for you.” you knew that was a lie, rhea makes things like this difficult on purpose. But you enjoyed it anyway and she knew that. You wrapped your arms around your girlfriend and pulled her into a kiss. Rhea grabbed a hold of your face and intensified the kiss making sure you knew she was in control.

“Rhea please..” you spoke gasping from the kiss

“aw does my little whore want somethin” you nodded your head while lookin away.

“well, you don’t get to ask for things” Rhea was softly touching your waist making you get goosebumps. Pulling away, rhea got up to get a few things for what she wanted to do with you.

“On your knees.” she was demanding and you followed, slowly kneeling down in front of her. rhea pulled out her strap and put it on, then aligned it to meet your mouth. You looked up at her with puppy eyes as you slowly wrapped your hand around her strap.

“don’t give me that look darling, you know what to do,” she caressed your head and you leaned into the touch. Your mouth got to work, licking and sucking her cock. Rhea let you go at your own pace with only sometimes pulling your hair to go deeper or faster. You loved the feeling of being used, small droplets formed in the corner of your eyes.

“yeah just like that love, you’re so good using your pretty mouth like that.” She praised you making get even more worked up. The heat between your thighs was unbearable, you needed rhea to touch you where you so desperately wanted. Drool driped down your chin still sucking on rheas strap. Your hand wandered down to touch yourself but rhea caught you

“Did i give you permission to touch yourself?” she grabbed you by the hair and pulled you off of her cock.

“N-no” the pain from having your hair pulled sent shivers down to your core.

“So what made you think you could hm?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help it, I just wanted you to touch me” you whined

“You’re such a fuckin slut, you can’t even wait for me to do it?” She pulled you up and threw you on the bed. You were laying on your stomach, ass propped up for her to see.

“Count with me, or else i’m starting over” A harsh slap landed on you. You gasp struggling to speak

“one!..” Another slap.

“Ah! two!” this time it stung more than before. But you were enjoying it, juices now flowing down to your thighs. Rhea made you count 8 more times, by the time she was done you were crying and your ass was now a light shade of red.

“You’re doing amazing love.” She rubbed your sore cheeks and gave you a kiss.

“please…please touch me” you said through sniffles. Rhea laughed and finally started to touch your dripping pussy.

“You got this wet from me spanking you? I could slip two fingers into you so easily now. Maybe three?” Rhea whispered in your ear teasingly. You pushed your ass into rhea desperately and she grinned.

“I wanna feel your fingers, I need you so bad Rhea” you begged as she rubbed quick circles into your clit. Shortly after you said that, rhea swiftly inserted two fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You couldn’t contain the noises you made as she kissed your neck slowly.

“I think you can handle another finger, right princess?”

“o-oh oh fuck…it’ll be too much!” You were lying, you wanted to see how much you could take, you wanted her to push you to the max.

“You’re such a bad liar, love” Rhea added a third finger, stretching you out. Pleasure washed over you as she continued fucking you. You were close to release and rhea could feel it.

“Are you cumming princess?” you nodded your head babbling nonsense as your whole body tensed up. You shouted rheas name as you released all over her fingers. Rhea flipped over your exhausted body so you could lay on your back.

“Look at the mess you made.” She kissed your thighs lowering herself in between them. Your hands clenched the sheets.

“wait wait i just came!” You huffed.

“I never said we were done, i’m far from done with you angel.” She forcibly held your thighs open so you couldn’t resist. You felt Rheas hot tongue on you, cleaning you up and moving in a circular motion on your swollen clit. Your nerves were burning up as you were being overstimulated. Rhea moaned into your pussy making you become even louder from the vibration. You were close once again but rhea stopped.

“that’s not fair, I was so close” you wailed

“quit your whining, love” you let out an annoyed sound while looking away, until you felt something hit your entrance. You quickly looked back to see Rheas strap. Before you could protest, she gripped your hips and started to enter you. You whipped your head back cumming on rheas strap as she now slammed into you.

“look at what a slut you are, cumming from just entering your little hole” you were breathless as she fucked you hard and fast, fucking you past your orgasm. You were twitching uncontrollable. Rhea placed your legs over her shoulders, aiming to go deeper into you which you didn’t even think was possible. Her strap was bigger from the usual ones, the thought of it going deeper into you made you close again.

“f-fuck rhea you’re going to..ugh! break me!” You held on to her, leaving scratch marks on her back. Rhea groaned, her hand now around your neck. She was hitting all the sweet spots within you, the pleasure made you dizzy and dazed. Watering you down to a moaning mess.

“Come on princess, one more time for me” Rhea’s hand moved from your neck to your clit. Rubbing it while she was still deep in you, messing up your insides. You felt her pull out almost all the way, and was about to beg her to keep going from how close you were until she snapped her hips right back into you. You screamed and felt your body convulse, orgasm now approaching. Only a few more sharp thrusts were enough to get you over the edge one last time.

“Shit!” your hands grabbed onto anything in proximity, it was too much for you to handle. Rhea gave slow thrusts through your orgasm, turning your legs into jello. You finally calmed down, body now limp as your breath slowed.

“Such a good girl, have i tired you out?” Rhea pulled out of you, rubbing any sore spots on you.

“mhm…” You felt exhausted, but you still managed to cling yourself onto your girlfriend.

“can you kiss me please?”

“of course angel” she kissed you slowly and passionately as you drifted off to sleep. Rhea left and came back to get a towel to clean you up, admiring your beautiful body in the process.

-end

#rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley #wwe rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fluff #wwe #mami rhea

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thelightsandtheroses · 3 months

Text

3. we can get away, palm trees, beach views ...

Let's Get Lost Chapter 3 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Summary: You and Frankie aren’t together anymore but you’re in a good place. However, spending a week together for your mutual friends’ wedding on a luxury resort might challenge that slightly and realising you’re still in love with your ex is a sure-fire recipe for disaster … Tropes: it was always you, getting back with the ex, beach!Frankie (you know *that* photoshoot) miscommunication, only one bed, good parent Frankie Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI, references to past drug addiction, references to food and alcohol, discusison of TF canon events, Frankie and the reader are parents to a toddler, past break-ups. Word Count: 2500 Notes: Thank you for the lovely feedback so far - it's meant so much to me and I hope you enjoy this update. I have a lot planned for this fic. The chapter title is from I Want You Around by Snoh Aalegra.

Previous | Series | Next

You can hear the birds outside when you wake up. Soft, lyrical songs coax you awake and you hear yourself groan slightly.

There are thin lines of light streaming through the gaps in the shutters and you’re surprised you can’t hear your daughter. She’s usually awake by now.

“Clara’s still asleep,” he says in a low voice.

“That’s got to be a record,” you whisper back drowsily, quietly shifting yourself so you’re propped up by your pillows.

Frankie is bolt upright in bed, a book loosely clasped in his hands and you can see that the reading lamp by his side of the bed is turned on. Despite the dim yellow light you can still take in every detail of his face, the freckles adorning his neck, the laughter lines, his stubble.

“Mornin’” he says, meeting your sleepy gaze.

“Hi, what time is it?”

“About six?” Frankie stifles a yawn.

“Why aren’t you asleep still?”

“Just woke up early. Couldn’t - y’know …”

You look at the book in his hands, he’s a lot further ahead now than you remember him being when he placed the bookmark in last night. You notice his worn eyes, the way he looks like he’s been awake for a while.

“How’s it shaping up?” you ask, indicating the book and leaning slightly over your pillow barrier.

For a second you’re not here, you’re back in Florida a few years ago and this is your usual morning routine. All sepia lighting, soft kisses, lingering touches and hot skin against you.

You remember awkward giggles about morning breath, the way he’d kiss you like he’d been waiting for years when it had only been a matter of hours.

You return to reality with the sound of Clara’s soft snores.

Frankie smirks at you. “She gets that from -”

“Do not finish that sentence, Francisco.”

He raises his hands with an easy grin. “Full name, huh? So, do you want to try her for a bit at the kids’ club this afternoon? Get her used to it more before we’re deep in all the wedding events?”

“She’s been really excited about that and meeting the other kids,” you say. You often wonder how two introverted people produced such a gregarious child. You imagine maybe Frankie was that confident as a little boy; you can see it - all round cheeks, mischievous grin and open eyes.

“She just takes everything in her stride,” Frankie whispers.

“She’s strong.”

“Like you.”

“I meant, like you,” you say.

Frankie shakes his head but there’s the slightest hint of a twitch on his lips.

You could reach over and touch him - it feels natural.

You can remember what his lips felt like on yours - the way his hand would so carefully and lightly move down your waist in a movement so delicate you used to think of it as his fingers dancing down your body.

It’s just proximity, it’s just the proximity.

You need more pillows for the barrier.

You lean back against your chair, listening to the steady sound of the ocean in the distance.

You spent the morning exploring in the local town with Lia and Sophie. At first you felt slightly guilty to not be spending time with Clara, but she was excited about a morning with her tios before heading to the kid’s club. It is Lia’s wedding break after all and you want to celebrate with her.

It had been a really good morning; you’d found a great cafe, wandered around tourist destinations and most importantly had enjoyed your time with Lia and Sophia. The three of you kept laughing and joking and any doubt you had that you would feel out of sorts for being the only one of them who was an ex swiftly vanished. In fact, you hadn’t discussed men once. It had been great.

All of you have now met up for a late lunch back at the hotel before you drop Clara off at the kid’s club. You’re sitting opposite Frankie who today has bought out one of what you used to semi-affectionally dub his ‘loud shirts’. Frankie’s style has always ranged from simple, casual basics to the occasional louder shirt that you feel would be associated more with a PI than an ex-army pilot. It’s Frankie though. You seem to remember those shirts were pretty soft too.

You take a sip of your drink, enjoying the sweet and refreshing taste of the coconut flavoured cocktail.

Frankie catches your eye and smiles briefly.

You’re finally starting to feel a little relaxed; that nagging anxiety to check your emails or to just be ‘on’ all of the time is starting to abate.

Santi stands up and raises his glass. “Okay, I wanted to call out that we’ve got the team back together and it only took Benny here getting married for that,” Santi says cheerfully, “and it’s a double celebration today because we need to mark that Frankie got the official confirmation yesterday he’s getting his licence back.”

You watch Frankie’s face colour up with the attention.

“No fucking way,” Benny exclaims, “finally, Frankie! I’m so fucking pleased for you.”

He’s got his licence back? you think immediately, proud that he’s achieved this goal he was working towards. It’s another sign of his sobriety, of his recovery.

It stings though. He didn’t tell you. He couldn’t do this while you were together either.

He didn’t tell you. He could have told you this morning - did he not want to? Or is it just that in your new co-parenting role you don’t get to know these things immediately anymore. You’re not his girlfriend or fiancée, you’re not one of his best friends, you’re not sure where you stand anymore.

He meets your gaze and nervously nods at you, wringing his hands slightly as Benny swallows him into a one-armed hug, delicately balancing his drink with the other hand.

“That’s great news, Frankie, well done,” you say, your voice sounding clipped and cold even to you.

Will frowns at you and you feel your palms growing sweaty with embarrassment as you notice Santi shaking his head. You tighten your grasp around your oblivious daughter who immediately fidgets on your lap.

You’re doing this all wrong.

You shouldn’t be here anyway.

“I - it’s time I need to drop Clara off. I’ll uh - I’ll, um, see you all later.”

You feel Frankie’s eyes on you the whole time you’re walking away.

“Fucking really, Santi?” you hear Frankie say as you walk away.

You're not hiding. Not officially. You watch the waves ebb and flow in the near distance, scrunching your toes on the sand just past the terrace from your room. There's the faintest sound of laughter, of people enjoying their time on the beach.

You shut your eyes. How did you get the lunch so wrong?

The door closes behind you and you turn around instantly, caught in the headlights as you see Frankie standing there.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asks, hesitance clear in his voice. “You just walked off? I thought we’d take Clara to the club together.”

Another failing. Why do you keep getting this so wrong? "I - I just - crap."

He pulls the terrace door to and sits on the sand next to you, hugging his knees. "It's not a big deal, sw- it's not a big deal. Just - what's wrong?"

“You didn’t tell me,” you finally say, trying so hard to hide the hurt in your voice. Frankie doesn’t have to tell you things anymore, you know that. You just thought that maybe he’d want to.

You’re friends again, right?

Frankie looks down at the sand and exhales a heavy, poignant sigh. He seems to be stopping himself from saying something, probably that it is none of your business. You watch him open his mouth then close it a couple of times and wait patiently.

“I know.”

“Do you not want to tell me things anymore? I mean, I guess you don’t have to but I thought -”

“I didn’t tell you because I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he confides.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve spent the past few years with this single mission. Get sober, get my licence again, get my life, or at least something like it, back.“ He pauses, looking at you and then away from you quickly. A question pops into your head and immediately dissipates - no, you can’t go there.

“Well, you’ve done it,” you say gently, placing a hand on his sandy bicep. He’s all sun warmed skin and you can smell the hint of sunscreen as you sit next to him too.

“I never thought about - about what would happen once I got those things,” he admits. “I guess, I didn’t want to jinx it, I didn’t think I’d even get it back.”

“You don’t know if you want to fly anymore?”

Frankie lives for flying. The passion you remember in his voice, the way his eyes light up when he talks about the technicalities, the detail of the science and data behind flying. He used to read flight manuals to Clara when she was sobbing with colic through the night, right before the relapse and Colombia. Every time you see a helicopter or a plane, you think of him.

Can you remember him talking about flying recently though? Can you remember that passionate, bright look in his eyes at any time recently other than when he’s with your daughter?

“The last time I was flying - I crashed it. Tom ended up dead,” he says, barely above a whisper and once again looking away from you. “It’s all on me.”

Automatically you squeeze his arm in sympathy, in the only consolation you can give right now. “Not in the crash though, you said -”

“If I hadn’t crashed it, if I had just said no to the extra weight, if I -”

“Stop, stop, Frankie.”

He looks over at you, finally meeting your gaze with wide, brown eyes. His eyes are a swirl of emotion; pain, achievement, memories you can never know, regret. There’s so much regret in his eyes now.

It’s funny, you stood in an airport baggage hall just days ago thinking he’d entirely glowed up since the break-up, but his eyes are telling you wildly different stories now.

“You can’t change the past; you can’t go over what ifs. It was - it was a tragedy but it wasn’t your tragedy, it wasn’t your fault.”

“What if it was?” he asks plaintively, “And I robbed a kid of their father, of my friend, if that’s true. Do you realise that? Can you even imagine that weight?”

“You were all grown-ups, all making your own choices that led to that exact moment. I know, I know there’s a lot about that time I don’t know, probably never will, and I don’t - I don’t want you to tell me if you don’t want to, or can’t, but know this, Frankie, you are a good man.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. For what it’s worth, I’d feel safe in any aircraft if you were flying it. ”

He swallows, looking away from you for just a moment.

“You mean that?”

“Of course.”

He nods.

Your hand has slipped into his and he squeezes. It feels so familiar, so right at this moment.

“If you don’t want to fly,” you add, “that’s okay too.”

“I don’t want Clara to have a deadbeat dad.”

“She won’t. She doesn’t.”

“I don’t want know what I’m supposed to do other than fly.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay.”

It’s only later as you return to your hotel room that you realise you said we, that you made you and Frankie a unit again.

You still mean it too.

You feel awkward about what’s going to happen at dinner. Even though you’re walking in alongside Frankie, even though you know he’s going to demonstrate that the two of you are just fine, all you think about are the disappointed looks at lunch.

To your surprise, it hurts worse than leaving your daughter with a sitter.

You can only imagine what they must think of you right now.

They must think you’re becoming that stereotype of an ex - resentful and bitter and you don’t know how to say it’s not that at all. It’s that for some reason the confirmation you weren’t the first person he’d want to tell anymore cut a deep hole in your heart.

It’s hypocritical and stupid and risks ruining everything.

There’s a revelation low in your stomach you cannot let rise yet, you cannot voice because it really will ruin everything and you’re not ready for that. You’re not ready for this - things have just started to stabilise again.

You’ve prepared for dinner though. You chose one of your favourite outfits, doused yourself in your favourite perfume and spent time on your appearance for dinner. It’s armour.

Lia smiles when she sees you. “You look gorgeous,” she says in greeting, rising up and hugging you as you join them at the large table you’ve all now mentally claimed as your own throughout your stay.

She draws you in next to her. “How’s Clara? Did she like the kid’s club?”

“She did and she likes the sitter too.” You feel terrible about having a sitter on holiday but it’s novel to have a dinner with all of your friends in the evening. Besides, between you and Frankie, you’d both extensively researched and interviewed the hotel sitter so you felt as at ease as you could under the circumstances. It’s a family holiday yes, but two hours at the club and a sitter for a dinner hardly makes you and Frankie bad parents.

“That’s so good. It’s great having you and Clara both here, you know. I know work’s been a lot recently but I’ve missed you. I’m just - I’m pleased you made it.”

“Like I’d be anywhere else,” you say candidly. “You’re my best friend, Lia.”

“Ditto, just like, don’t tell my sister that?”

“Guide’s honour,” you say with a wink.

You’re grateful for Lia, she’s one of your closest friends and somehow she knows just what you needed to hear. You vow to be there more for her this week - it’s her wedding after all!

It doesn’t escape you that Frankie’s been sat with Santi and some distance from you and you are next to Lia. You wonder whose idea this seating arrangement was - Will’s perhaps, or maybe it was Sophia. You know they must be worried about a repeat of their wedding.

You take a long sip of your drink. On the other end of the table, you can hear Frankie’s soft laughter. You can’t help thinking about your conversation with him earlier, the slight tingle in your stomach when you spoke this morning.

You broke up for a reason. You know that.

It was the right thing at the right time and it hurt that all that love you had for him, that you think he had for you, was changed by everything that had gone on them.

It has to go somewhere though, doesn’t it? It can’t just stay stagnant; you’re supposed to move on.

It’s just, you think that maybe you still love Frankie a bit. Maybe you never stopped.

This is a hideously unwelcome revelation, it’s inappropriate, it’s clearly unreciprocated. You’re supposed to just be co-parents.

There’s no just with Frankie though, there never has been.

You feel nauseas. It’s starting to look like once again you and Frankie are going to end up ruining another friend’s wedding. Your best friend’s wedding to make it worse.

Only this time, it will be entirely your fault.

Tag List

If you would like to be added to to the taglist please let me know. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs.

LGL tag-list: @morallyinept @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @beboldbebravethings @spishsstuff @bitchesuntitled @redcake333 @missladym1981 @kungfucapslock @dinoflower-reads @kirsteng42 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @casssiopeia @beboldbebravethings @devotedlyshybarbarian @emilyfarias16 @sageispunk @amyispxnk @lola8888673 @maryfanson @lu62 @ilovepedro @katw474 @softstarlite @titlee78 @aquanatalie @girlofchaos

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

#frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #fic: let's get lost #frankie morales x you

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fear-is-truth · 7 months

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the Evans reacting to you falling asleep on them... 🤭

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

Tate Langdon

pokes your cheek gently.

plays with your hair for a bit.

whispers your name experimentally.

when you didn’t reply, he kisses the top of your head and stays quiet because he knows you’re tired.

boy could stay still for HOURS, just listening to you breathing and feeling the rhythm of your heartbeat.

Kit Walker

you were reclining on the couch, nestled atop him as both of you watched the evening news together.

one moment, you were discussing gas prices, and the next, you’ve dozed off right on top of him.

he’d instantly feel guilty seeing you so exhausted, managing both household chores and two kids must be challenging.

tells the kids to play within his sight because he’s a protective father.

soft kisses on the top of your head, his hand stroking your back.

afterwards, he offers to make supper and tell you to take it easy the rest of the evening.

cult leader! Kai Anderson

depends entirely on his mood.

if he’s in a good mood, he’d sit still and scroll twitter or watch tv while you sleep with your head in his lap.

he’d snap a photo of you with his phone.

NOT because you look so goddamn precious when you’re asleep.

if someone from the cult walks in, he’d glower at them, silently daring them to say a word.

harrison low-key thinks you two are cute and ships you. meadow hates you with passion.

if he’s being an asshole, he’d blow air into your ear and laugh when you jolt awake.

pre cult! Kai Anderson

guy would try to play it cool while panicking internally.

sends Winter a ‘SOS’ message attached with a picture of you peacefully snoring away on his lap.

frat boy! Kyle Spencer

he’d let you lay your head on his chest and continue whatever he was doing. (studying)

occasionally pausing to stroke your hair.

doesn’t care about the fact that you’re drooling all over his shirt.

takes a selfie of you sleeping on his chest and airdrops it to you. for later teasing.

✧. a/n ─ my apologies for not including james, jimmy and austin.. i haven’t finished the series yet. will update! pls excuse the crappy writing, english is not my first language.

#american horror story #kai anderson #evan peters #tate langdon #kit walker #james patrick march #ahs #Kyle Spencer #tate langdon x y/n #kai anderson x y/n #kit walker x reader #kyle spencer x reader #kai anderson x reader #ahs headcanons #tate langdon headcanon

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rainymoodlet · 3 months

Text

🌧 rainymoodlet is in full hiatus mode! 🌧

hoo... absolutely sick to my stomach writing this. ✌ for more information, please read below! thank you all for following my stories, loving my bachelor challenge, and loving my little pixels as much as i do. 😊

Well, my darling fellow simblrs... it's happened. It's been a bit of a long time coming over the past few months, but I've finally decided to put my blog into a permanent sort of "hiatus mode". I am a person who is riddled with executive dysfunction and lack of self-control, and I know that if I don't legitimately cut myself off from Simblr™ and the disassociation it's allowed me, I will. not. quit. 😅

I originally joined Simblr back in 2021 during a really difficult and isolated time in my life. I haven't been able to speak much to it because of the legal issues it's tied up in, but Simblr became my escape whilst in the throes of seeking justice against my abuser in a time where my entire family had abandoned me, and my fiance and I were living alone in my parents' house with only the two of us to swirl in deep and massive depression. Sims has always been my escape; from 2004 onward, it has given me narrative control and visual fantasy for as long as I can remember, and it will always be a deeply comforting and "safe" game for me.

But when I joined Simblr, it was out of many of the reasons that I think we can all relate to as writers and creatives. I had the idea for Loved by the Sun, and as I kept imagining and writing and building this world, I thought: "I deserve to show this to people. I really want people to see this. And I really want them to think it's good." I had been existing on the fringes of Simblr on my own personal Tumblr blog: I've seen countless legacies rise and fall, countless dramas spread out across blogs that are no longer active and haven't been for years. I wanted people to wake up and roll over and check my blog, desperate for updates, eager for more.

And more than anything, I wanted to escape the day-to-day hell I was living in.

But as the years went on, I've noticed that the excitement and creativity that drove my creation of my account has dwindled beyond measure. And I will put that on myself - starting a Bachelor Challenge like Kiss Me in Komorebi was one of the beginning nails in the coffin of my creativity and enjoyment of Simblr. I do not regret it one bit, and I am so grateful for the following it's gained and the genuine enjoyment you've all had with KMiK. It's my proudest achievement, it's pushed me to be a better editor and a better screenshot-taker, it's challenged me in my way of playing and it's introduced me to so many wonderful people.

But of course... I me'd it up. 😎

I've become obsessed to an egregious degree with the perception of my handling of this challenge. I want everyone to feel as though their sim gets enough screen-time, I want everyone to feel that the creative effort they put into submitting their sims was respected, and I desperately don't want anyone to feel left out or as though they're being ignored in favor of other contestants. It became so much less of telling Dan's story and journey, and all about how I was appearing as the Master of the Game.

And to be honest, my obsession with "staying relevant" in the fast-paced scroll of the Simblr Dashboard, believing you all would stop caring or stop reading if I didn't post as quickly as possible, was my own doom from the start, fkdfdjk.

In my life, I've had countless opportunities to turn my life around and start changing for the better. And time and time again, the energy that could have gone toward improving my situation or bettering my relationships has gone toward Simblr, and this online environment. I have practically no life beyond the screen: my days off are spent taking screenshots or spending four hours on builds that I still won't finish, obsessed over every angle, desperately seeking out that ~sparkle~ of simplicity and not-trying-too-hard I apply to all of your screenshots.

I am a dopamine and serotonin fiend, and though I can pinpoint in my life where trauma and isolation has pushed me to my online spaces, I was hyper-aware of the reality that in a few years, I won't be involved in Simblr. I won't be posting constantly, I won't care about the mods or the updates or the custom content.

And the stories I've written will be monuments to the time I've wasted, working on chasing the serotonin monster instead of bettering my own life and my own situation.

And now, I've got a real chance to do something better with my life. My fiance and I are at a crossroads of choice - we can change our lives for the better this year, or we can accept that the years of inaction we forced ourselves into out of the fear of moving forward have doomed us to a life we're not happy with. And I am one stubborn bastard when it comes to giving up.

The friendships and connections I've made here are some of the most meaningful in my life, and I hate that I've pulled back in the way I have. Along the way, it became much more about the notes, the numbers, the interaction, the reblogs over likes - and I lost myself and my friendships to my own mismanagement of my time and energy. I could spend five hours on one build, going from 7am to 12pm in a lightning speed of disassociation and obsessive Alt-clicking, and at the end of the day sit there and go...

What the hell have I done today? I could have messaged someone, I could have chatted with my friends, I could have done something. But no, I built a science lab, or a date location, and fretted the entire time until my stomach felt sick that it just "wasn't right" or wouldn't "look the way I wanted it to" in my screenshots.

I deeply, deeply love my stories, and I am so proud of them and what they've done for y'all and how you all have enjoyed them. I am incredibly lucky for the experience I've had on Simblr, and I know that there are plenty of blogs out there that sit with little interaction when they deserve so much more.

And yes, I will admit. The tendency of a 15-minute slapped together CAS edit of mine getting more notes and spotlight than the posts of my stories I've put legitimate effort into has fucked with my brain.

Simblr has changed from the story-laden place it was when I was following y'alls stories and legacies from 2015 onward. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that! Online spaces shift and change just as much as the social media sites like TikTok and Instagram, that go through trends and phases and fads and memes the same way we do. We are not above other social media in that regard, and I think there's a general sense from Simblr that we're some isolated island; we don't follow trends, we don't have fads, we don't have audio trends that get slapped on every other six-second video.

But I will raise you the Blender Phase and the Edit Phase as evidence every time.

I need to take some serious introspection time, and commit a lot of my energy to things that can bring me positive change outside of this online space. I hope to be able to come back as a better, healthier person, but to be honest, I don't really know when that will be. (Even this post is something I feel I have to do to be responsible, not just disappearing in the middle of this Challenge, leaving you all hanging djfh) I hope this doesn't come off as some high-horse rant, or leave a sour taste in y'alls mouths.

I just... I'll really miss this space. I'll miss the sims, I'll miss you guys, I'll miss your posts and your legacies and your sense of humor. I want to thank so many people, but I don't want to tag you all and shove this post into your activity streams dkfd.

I can't give any commitments to appearing more in Discord or even being present on this space - I've gone to the point of disconnecting the Chrome browser that's for rainymoodlet from my main icon bar, like I am going straight cold-turkey. I'll still be playing Sims, but I'm going to try and reconnect with it for myself - not for the screenshots, not for the stories, and not for the desperate want for people to understand what I'm posting or for it to make sense or satisfy, dfkj.

I am so, so incredibly grateful for every single one of you, and I hate to just drop this out of nowhere. But I need to do this, for me and for my future. And now I'm just sitting here like "Shannon, it's simblr, fucking chill." dkjfd I JUST... this space has done so much for me, and I genuinely feel a sense of loss in leaving. Especially in the middle of a story, fkgjfkg.

I really do genuinely love and care for you all. Please take care of yourselves, okay? Mama Shan does genuinely want the best for you, and I can't thank you enough for letting little old dorky ass me be a part of your community and your lives.

'Til next time, y'all. I'll see you soon. 💛

#txt #this will be my new pinned post.#going to go lay down on the floor for a long time now.#i feel sO SICK FUCK.#i really will miss you all so much. but i need to do this. it's like cigarettes at this point. if i don't go cold turkey... i won't quit.#i'll keep stressing abt how i'm not posting kmik or how i'm not interacting or how people are waiting and it will keep #affecting how i choose to spend my time and energy #and i just can't afford that anymore fff.#but ofc my blog will still be up!! you can still read kmik and my tjolc and everything i've posted #because gdi my contestants put a lot of effort into their sims and they deserve it #i hope i can come back to y'all in a better place 💛#2024 IS THE YEAR OF CHANGE MY DARLINGS AND I ALREADY WASTED JANUARY SO LETS GOOOO

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pursuitseternal · 3 months

Text

“Feeling:” angst, romance, flashbacks, comfort… update to “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x Tav (Cordehlia) | E | 4.5K of angsty flashbacks and romantic comfort

Cover art by @marimosalad 💞

Summary: Baldur’s Gate looms before them, where so much awaits them: Cazador, the Absolute, and the source and secret of Cordehlia’s long-lasting hatred of him. Where her love turned to grief, and grief turned to rage.

CW: cuddling, flashbacks, angst angst and more angst, grief, tragic revelations, hurt comfort, two lovesick idiots finally getting closer… while they still can.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 15: Feeling…

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

She could see the heat rising from it, the City. Baldur’s Gate, a sight she had sworn never to see. Not since she had last ventured this way, heavy with broken heart and the weight of lost souls in her heart.

But fates change, fortunes rise and fall. Now Cordehlia sat on this watchtower wall, the very reason for her anger and hatred and vow to never set foot here again had his arm wrapped snug around her waist. Astarion pulled her into his lap, face turned towards the sun as his crimson eyes watched it set over the sea.

Her heart rapt hard in her chest. There was so much ahead of them, so many battles to fight and enemies to slay. But for now, he just held her as the light faded into sparkles on the waves. His eyes were wide with wonder, and she realized in that moment, he hadn’t seen a sunset near the city for almost two-hundred years. Not since….

“Not since those days of Magistrate have I seen the sun, let alone allowed myself to watch it settle into the Sea…” he sighed, snuggling her closer into his chest, tucking her fiery red head under the dip of his chin. “This is what we always dreamed of, isn’t it… the allure of the city, the chance to be together at long last….”

His voice, usually purring in seduction or acerbic in sarcasm just flowed over her in warm tender words, just as he used to back… back home.

“We are a might bit different now than we would have been,” she replied, a bit sharper, a bit more bitter than he was.

He turned slowly, thick lips smirking as he caught her chin in his gentle hold. “We both have a little more bite now, don’t we, my love?”

Cordehlia ran her thumb over his lips, slipping inside to brush his fang gently. “There is so much ahead of us here. Challenges… danger… blood.” Her voice was distant, so many thoughts swirling behind the shining silver of her eyes.

Astarion smirked against her palm, trying for flirtatious, for a hint of playful seduction to soothe her. “But darling, we like blood,” he teased.

A half-hearted laugh, she pressed closer against his body. Wishing he was warm.

“Cazador will be seeking you back even harder now, my love…” she whispered, worried about even mentioning the monster’s name.

“Let him,” he shrugged, every muscle in his hardened body tightening. Ready to spring. “I am more than powerful enough to take him. With our tadpole, he can’t compel me, can’t force me to…” Astarion swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the top of her head, “to do anything.” He finished, so many things unsaid in that silence. “I’ll be free,” he purred, lifting her sweet face up for him to lose himself in. “We’ll be free, Cordehlia.”

She pressed her lips against his, a soft kiss, more affirming and loving that words could say.

He sighed, letting his fingers fall from under her chin. “You really are perfect, every time, my love.” That raking smile twisted his face, more of his taunting, jeering nature coming out to play. “And besides, I can’t wait to hear Cazador’s screams and smell his blood once we finally kill him. All we need to do now is find where this… Rite… is taking place, and,” he arched that left brow, cunning and mischievous, “if we can take a bit of that power and immortality for ourselves.”

“Astarion, always the ambitious,” she shook her head. “Magistrate, High Lord… no those titles are beneath you,” Cordehlia needled back, mocking and whining as if he were a child. “No, no… Lord Astarion, Vampire Ascendant…”

“You must admit,” he let out a heavily dramatic sigh, “it does sound so nice.”

“Hmm,” she patted him on the cheek, “one thing at a time, love. Devilish pacts and profane rites are not like bargaining for a better deal at the fish market.”

Astarion snickered, “That’s your elvish wisdom, is it? I’d prefer power over a nice cut of cod any day. Why don’t more people talk about the wisdom of the vampire?” He faked a pout, like the petulant child she sometimes still caught glimmers of beneath the man she loved.

“Because the extent of your wisdom, Astarion is ‘See a problem, stab the problem, get rewarded for solving the problem.’ That’s not wisdom,” Cordehlia placed a hand on his chest as he started to lean into her, his body winding tight as if he were about to throw her on her back and have his way. But she shoved hard enough to keep him at bay. “It’s the ambition of the vampire, my love. And you’ve always had an ambitious streak in you.”

She gazes at him a little pointedly, a little bitter, just a spark of that anger in her face that he remembered from first finding her once more. “I take it you worry about my ambitions, darling.”

“I have the right to worry.” She kept that hand on his chest. “You’ve hurt me before,” she quirked a brow, taunting, “remember?”

“A low blow, but a valid one,” he sighed, exasperated. “I do remember, and yet…” he forced his face into hers, looking closely. “Why do you look like you hate me… like that day you found me on the beach?”

A shaking, chest rattling breath made her quake in his arms. “Because I vowed never to come back to this city, to never step foot in Baldur’s Gate again after what I went through…. Over you.”

Dexterous, roguish fingers caressed the back of her neck. “Are you going to tell me? Or are you going to show me?”

She could feel the wriggling of his tadpole, calling to hers, begging to let him enter. She looked into his eyes, forcing them open before she allowed him in her memories. “Perhaps it’s better you know… but remember, I’ve since learned the truth, since learned about your own darkness and suffering. And now, you’ll see why I became all I did. Why I hated you….”

“So long as it’s past tense, your hatred, my love, then hide nothing from me….”

Minds crashed, faced whirred in his vision as he saw her memories from centuries before….

———————————————————————-

It hurt. Unbearable. His parents already gone… disappeared probably from their own griefs. Left and never came back. Swallowed by their loss or to the violence of the City—a cautionary tale for her people to keep to themselves, to quit the alliances and deals their High Lord and Lady had insisted on forging with the powerful Patriars and Council Members of Baldur’s Gate. And now they were gone too. Their line with them.

Of course Father was worried the same would befall her, a constant niggling dread inside her mind as she crossed into the gates of the Lower City.

She kept her eyes down the whole way here… ignoring every vendor along the Southspan, every prostitute and pleasure seeker that stumbled out of the Flophouses and brothels, and every Flaming Fist that didn’t ask for her papers as she made it through Wyrm’s Rock.

Her booted feet hurried all the more at those sultry voices that called to her from those pleasure houses. Every grunt or sigh or ‘darling’ was a slice across her heart.

The reminder she would never hear him again. Never see him again. Never hold him, or kiss him, or taste him, or…

Gods, it was too much to bear. She collapsed against the alley wall. Her world spun, the ground falling out from under her as she shuddered and sobbed.

“Astarion,” she whispered his name into the palm of her hand as she tried in vain to force it back inside. The Magistrates offices were ahead, just around the corner. So close, and yet so far. Their letter, perfunctory and businesslike, detailed the facts of his murder, requesting someone to finish the matters associated with Astarion Ancunín’s death. Someone needed to collect his things, to pay his fines and check his burial.

His grave.

A responsibility falling to her in the aftermath of his parents’ disappearance.

On her, his betrothed.

Well, not betrothed anymore.

It had already been months, nearly a year. Matters had to be closed, fines paid for services rendered.

She shuddered, the sun beginning to fade behind the tall structures of the City. Night would fall soon, and yet somehow it wouldn’t be as deep as her grief, as dark as heart grew now that she was here.

One hand steadied on the wall, willing her body to rise, her feet to walk. She needed silence, someplace quiet and… drawing up short, she realized where she stood, the open maw of the cemetery to her right. It was like her own heart stopped beating the second she stepped foot on the buried dead. It would have to be here… the letter had said.

She forced her stinging, tear-blinded eyes to scan every name.

A chill set in the air as the sun sank lower, as she turned down a row of headstones, her heart aching with each new name. Aching more and more. Until she found it in the back corner of the garden, the grass already grown over the dirt of his grave, little vines already creeping up that carved stone.

His beautiful name above where his beautiful body was laid to rest. She just… wanted to touch him again. To hear his inane giggle. To press her lips against his. To taste the salty tang of his cock one more time….

She didn’t know when she had laid on the ground, or when the sun had set. Didn’t know when the moon had risen or the grass beneath her body had grown cold.

Shivering, she needed to find a warm meal and a warm bed for the night. The Elfsong wasn’t far, she could stumble her way there before she passed out.

But that would mean leaving him.

Saying… goodbye.

She pressed her cold fingers to her lips, squeezing her eyes shut. Imagining they were his elegant fingers, one last time. Reaching for the stone, she pressed her kiss against his name carved for the ages and eternities. “Goodbye, my love,” she managed to say.

Rising to her feet, somehow she made it to the firelight and music of the Elfsong… packed to tightly with bodies, she struggled to make her way inside to the keeper behind the bar. “Saer, I require a room for the night.”

“Full up for another hour yet,” he huffed, wiping out the inside of a tankard. He gave her a salacious wink. “Rooms are in high demand this time of night. But one of my regulars will be done soon, he never stays long before draggin’em off back to his place…”

Her stomach flip flopped. She could have wretched up her guts right then and there.

“No,” she breathed deep and pulled her shoulders back as her father had taught her. “I’ll not sleep in someone else’s mess. I can find other accommodations.”

The barkeep shrugged. “Suit yerself. I doubt it. But I’ll save your place for next, once he’s done. One room in an hour for the pretty, red-head she-elf…” Cordehlia stamped away in a disgusted huff.

A fire in her belly, she bought herself a pie from a vendor, letting it settle uneasily in her stomach as she tried for another room.

Nothing. Not a single spare place to hire out for the night that wasn’t already bought and paid for or used for prostitution.

This miserable city… she cursed it in her heart. Hating every cobblestone, loathing every drunk stranger that scattered before her. This cesspit that took her love. The corruption that sank him into the earth itself.

She would be gone tomorrow, never to return. Take the cold comfort of his possessions and pay his fines and begin to bury the memory of him. As if she ever could.

But at least back with her people, with her Father, she could remember him as he was to her, not as one lost soul trying to find his way in this filth. That was the curse of the elves of course, their memory. That every night she could relive their youth, their love… all their firsts. As if he never left her. Turning back to the Elfsong, she resigned herself to that disgusting fate. At least she could demand clean bedclothes, losing herself in trance to the memories and to her love for Astarion. It was bittersweet relief.

Already she could feel the strength of her memory almost conjuring him. She could almost hear his voice in the streets, almost see his pale face and pretty eyes and wicked smile in the faces of strangers. By the time she had to face the Elfsong barkeep again, she merely passed him her coin.

“I knew you would return, what’s another Elf’s money after all…” he waved her to a stack of laundered sheets by the stairs. First door on the right… it was easy to find.

But then she froze the second she shut the door to the little bedroom.

Was her memory so strong… what her grief so fraught… her heart so broken?

The room smelled like him.

————————————————————————

She could sense his… disgust. His self-loathing and pain and confusion. As if he witnessed his own memories through another’s eyes.

She pulled him back deeper into her thoughts, a new, darker, more jaded feeling overwhelmed Astarion now. Grief piled upon grief.

————————————————————————

“I fucking hate it here,” Cordehlia growled under her breath. It was only to herself, but she liked the sound of vitriol in her voice all the same. She sat in a booth at the Elfsong as she had all day. Waiting. Watching. That human spy was supposed to be here… was supposed to come and give the information needed to fight off those Orcs on the southern border of her people’s lands. Where their camp was… how many their forces made… weapons, spells, war machines… that sort of thing.

All the things she had learned to take stock in, to measure before battle, just as her Father once had.

Once had, until he had fallen to Ketheric Thorm and his Dark Justiciars. But that pain was too fresh. Less than a year ago, now. Not that the Elfsong was filled with happy memories, not this City. Not the one that still made the scars on her heart sore from the last time she entered these sin-slick walls.

Astarion, she kept herself from saying his name out loud.

She would clear off his grave later tonight, once the matter was closed and the deed was done. Never again would she mention him. Her long, elven memory grew heavy under the weight of her sorrows. Orphan and widow.

Orphan—mother dead almost at birth, father, unburied on some cursed lands not far from here.

And widow, well almost a widow. No vows had been made other than the ones they forged wordlessly that night. Her body once touched, her virginity taken long ago. No one had even come close to that once more. Nor would they again.

It would have to be enough. Her heart would never love again.

Not when she was so needed by her people.

Her people had lost a High Lord and Lady, lost their promising young Lord to be next in line. With her Father’s death, they lost their steadfast, valiant hero of a General.

But Cordehlia was neither, neither Lady nor General; she was all that remained to lead in these matters.

No hero, but an assassin. No lady, a weapon. All her silken gowns had been long traded for armor at her Father’s side since Astarion’s death. And now… sharp, cold things were all that remained.

It was all she was now too.

Shaking her head, she scanned the room, piercing eyes peering into every table, looking for her contact. He would be here soon, and she needed to keep her head, slowing her sips of Ithbank. No matter how badly she wanted to drink into a stupor and pass out on his grave.

Maybe she would be with him again then…

“Fuck,” she cursed, slamming the glass down. And then she reached right for the green glass necked bottle of the vintage to take a swig.

It might be a long night of just waiting and watching. If she had to watch one more couple meander up those stairs, groping each other, to return moments later disheveled, she might throw her most precious dagger between their shoulder blades and be done with it.

What good was it, giving that to someone without meaning… closing her eyes, she swallowed again another bursting, dripping mouthful.

But it didn’t matter. Not even laying with him when it mattered most, not even that mattered any longer. These idiots would only live to regret their proclivities. Fools.

Better to have loved and lost than never…

Wait.

Her ears piqued in the din. A giggle. A man’s giggle.

It was familiar. Painful. She gazed across the dim tavern shaking her head to dismiss the thought. No, no. Just her bedraggled mind playing tricks on her. Just the wine resurrecting ghosts.

“Lady Corvus,” a voice whispered, the cloaked mortal sitting himself opposite her. Cordehlia nodded, careful not to smile too broadly at the use of her new title. “Here,” he whispered. Passing a scroll across the table. “Battle plans, maps, estimations of their forces, it’s all there, my lady.”

“You have been of great service,” she chimed in silken tones. Her hand set a small purse within the man’s reach.

“Thank you, my lady,” he nodded under his hood. “This place ain’t for the likes of you. You best be going, best be careful. There are rumors that the Pale Elf is around here tonight.”

She quirked a brow. “And?” She scoffed, “Is he some traitor? Some assassin come to kill me?”

“Not with blade, but he’s known for taking pretty things like you to play with… giving them a little death. Not the kind you deal, my lady.”

Cordehlia jolted at that, flinching as if smacked in the face.

“Don’t worry, my lady, I doubt he would be to your liking. You’re too fearsome, too intimidating to fall for his easy seduction.” The human’s mouth smiled under the hem of his hood before he stood, leaving as quickly as he came, one coin purse heavier than he arrived.

Cordehlia pocketed the scroll, taking a moment to first break open its seal and memorize it. Just in case.

It’s what her father would have done.

But as she prepared herself to leave, taking that wine bottle with her, she heard it again.

That fucking giggle.

And this time, it was no trick of the wine or memory. She paused, turning to search the opposite side of the tavern. Instantly, she froze. One shadowed booth, its occupants obviously intertwined. One man’s head being pressed lower and lower… the other, though he laid deeper in the shadows, was giggling at the nipping caresses.

His pale face was tilted away, but she knew that frame… that tousle of silver hair thrown back in ecstacy. His sharp chin, well cut jaw… his long, lithe fingers pushing that man’s head deep into his lap.

Glass shattered at her feet. Her wine bottle decimated as it slipped from her grip.

All she saw was red. Bloodied crimson at the sight of him.

Not dead.

Not alone. Not grieving and pining and lost adrift.

No. Being pleasured, Astarion the Pale Elf. “Fuck,” she growled, grinding the glass under her heel, pretending that the red wine at her feet was blood.

So blind, so lost to her sadness, she failed to see truth. So eager to give away her heart and soul and body. Little did she know all she gave him was a taste for more.

And not more of her. Not more to serve their… her people.

A fake death, an endless parade of lovers in her wake.

He might as well be as good as dead.

Her hand twitched on the hilt of her blade. Her head cocked to the side as she… considered. It would be quick to draw her knife out. To dampen these floorboards with more that ran red than wine.

But something stayed her fist, something kept that silver blade etched with her insignia of a crow buried inside its scabbard.

The ghost of her love for him couldn’t let that dagger sate its taste for blood. Not his.

“Fuck,” she growled again, striding away for the stables. She would not rest tonight. Ride until dawn. Push herself until that blade did taste blood.

Blood of Orcs and enemies. Flesh separated from bones until they were picked clean in the battlefield.

Enough blood until her body could finally go numb and her ears deafen to the sound of his giggle.

Of his pleasure. With many others.

Astarion’s mind swirled through more visions, half aware of his own feelings, own memories of that dark time.

She hated me… he hissed to himself, a bit in shock. Taken so far aback at the feelings that surfaced in her memories. He pushed harder, searching them, seeing how far that hatred went.

He saw… himself. The wreckage of the Nautiloid burning in the distance. Cocky, threatening on the beach, arms wrapped around that body he no longer knew.

A body he once knew carnally each and every night.

Her memories could have been tinted in red, the wave of anger, of shock and betrayal poured into his heart at the sight of… himself.

He was so cold, calculating. Aloof and mean. He felt it in her body, that longing to put herself out of misery by snatching his own dagger and slitting that beautiful pale throat she once nuzzled against.

How many lips had kissed him there… how many other faces pressed against that beat of his heart in his artery.

But no. Even when her hand did reach her own weapon, those fingers softened as she looked into his now crimson eyes.

“Fuck,” she had thought. Agreeing to let him be her companion. Unable to kill him or turn him away.

So she suffered.

Day. And night. Drawn like a moth to his flame to be so close again. Hating the fact that she couldn’t just be done with his presence. Hating the fact he couldn’t remember her…

But those little changes in him had softened the hatred, drawing question after question to her mind instead.

Why… why crimson eyes… why would an elf lose all his memory, the blessing and curse to his elven kindred… why those scars on his neck and his cold touch…?

She had pieced it out so early on. Vampire. But not so powerful… a spawn then. She had slept with a stake in her bed since that first night. Just in case.

Her love may have still been an ember, fighting for air to burn again in her heart, but her trust had long been extinguished.

He felt that hatred sink deeper again, watching how he had flirted with Shadowheart, playing on this confession of their past. Manipulating her, crafting the perfect tension to make her give him what he wanted.

He was so good at it. Save for the fact he underestimated that burning hate.

But Cordehlia had underestimated that ember of love. The moment he woke her in her bedroll, fangs at the ready, a stake pressed at his side, she had never hated him more. Not since that first night in the tavern when she saw him again… thinking him worse than a traitor.

She had been so close. So close to shoving that stake in his undead heart, putting herself out of that misery, misery she couldn’t endure much longer. It would have been the just thing after what he had done to her to take his life, undead or not.

But her heart won. That voice in her memory, his voice, made her recall his violet eyes and easy smile. His voice had stayed her hand again. It was a voice that long ago had hummed softly as her head rested in his lap, body warmed by the sun and the last throes of her pleasure at his fingers.

It was his voice that whispered to her that these weren’t his sins, that something here was more at fault than unbridled lust and a penchant for manipulation.

He wasn’t to blame.

But he would need to stay alive for her to learn why not.

So she let him disarm her, let him bite her flesh, let his body crush hers as it once had with bone-deep recognition.

And he felt that ember fan alive with love brighter in the memory of that night.

————————————————————————

A deep breath in his lungs, like one drowned breaking through the surface, he awoke. His eyes opened to the real world around them. She clung to him tighter than ever, as if she could knit her flesh to his, make her blood run as his own.

Her eyes stared back, every emotion racing behind her gaze, dripping wet with tears. Relief, anxiety, love and regret, they darkened her face as the sun sank below the waves of the Sea. Astarion kept one arm around her back, the other he moved, cradling her face so gently. His own eyes stung from unshed tears. “You know…” he whispers, voice shaking still from the intensity of those memories, “for all the ways Cazador tormented me, tortured me, stole everything from me… the worst thing he ever stole from me was my memory of you…”

“Cazador can rot in the hells for what he took from me, for what he forced you to do,” Cordehlia scowled. “I… I lost my love for you for so long, I buried it under grief and hatred and blood. And when I saw you on the beach…. When you had no idea who I was to you….” Her voice snagged in her throat the more she talked, until she couldn’t swallow.

He just held her, shushing her softly, still holding her face. His palm collected the warm tears as they silently began to fall. “My love, you never gave up on me. Even when you walked away, even then, you did what you had to, just as I did. I could feel it from then too, even when you found me in that wreckage of the Mindflayer ship, your heart never gave up on me…” he paused, making certain her wet, silver eyes looked right into his. “And I’m so very grateful you didn’t.”

Cordehlia sniffled, a feeble smile on her lips, embarrassed as he brought her very wet face against his own for a kiss.

“Besides, I’m rather looking forward to damning that bastard to the hells at your side. It’ll be so much more fun together,” he crooned. That playful tone made her give tear-streaked laughs as she wiped her nose on her sleeve.

“Together, he’s going to pay,” she added. “In blood…” she couldn’t help but grin again.

“And then we will find a way to be together forever,” Astarion smiled, just a bit more twistedly, a bit more darkly. “I can promise you that.”

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

Thank you for everyone who loves these two lovesick idiots. I love hearing your reactions and your predictions.

This really is almost an Alternate Universe for the Pale Elf Quest, and I’m just thankful there are readers along for the ride 💞

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 11 months

Text

Behind the Seams: Part IV

{ Behind the Seams: Part III | Part III: Edgestitch | Series Masterlist }

Welcome to the second instalment of Behind the Seams! For those new to the series, this is a behind-the-scenes deep dive that I post in between chapters for those who are interested in taking a peek at my writing process (mainly because I update so slowly lol). There are spoilers for Edgestitch below the cut, so if you're not caught up, I suggest you come back when you are!

Current status: 3.6k unfinished rough draft

Initial thoughts: The last chapter laid down a few anchor points that I hope will carry the story forward for the next 2 to 3 parts. I still don't have an overarching plan for this series, and there is no 'plot' to speak of other than the unfolding of the relationship between Joel and Pin, and I'm good with that!

After the excitement of the last chapter, it took me a while to get back into the Seams mindset. While we resolved a tiny bit of the sexual tension last chapter, there is still a lot to unpack between these two. The camera is zooming in for this chapter, where we throw Joel and Pin together again, but in a less accident-prone manner as they take things into their own hands rather than leave it up to chance.

The challenge: One word - intimacy. On both their parts.

As Pin alluded to in the last chapter, it's been a long time anyone has even kissed her, let alone anything else. There will be some action in this chapter - I haven't decided to which degree yet - but I want to do it in a way that is sensitive to her history (even though I will leave it vague).

As for Joel, it's also one word - Tess. My Google doc right now cuts off at the beginning of the intimate scene, because I haven't figured out what he's thinking just yet in relation to her. As much as he's falling for Pin, I imagine he might be confused, guilty, probably in denial about his grief. I don't want Seams to get too heavy, and I might not be exploring these themes in Part IV just yet, but these are themes that I'm looking to explore in some way in the series.

Ellie: I was so bowled over by everyone's reaction to Ellie in the last chapter! That really gave me such a confidence boost, and I'm so happy to say that our favourite gremlin is making more of a cameo this chapter. She's great comedic relief while bringing out the dad side of Joel that I just love dipping into.

Joel: Many of you have brought up you're enjoying Joel's thoughts about Jackson and Sarah, and you don't understand how much it means to me. Getting into Joel's head has been one of my favourite things about this series, especially with him trying to figure out how to exist in this place after 20 years of just surviving. Ellie allowing himself to get back in touch with his dad side is another angle that I love delving into. The instincts have never left him, and I'm having so much fun bringing out that side of him.

Something fun: As I teased right here, the white undervest will make a return, and yes, Joel will be sweaty AF in it - I wonder why 🤷🏻‍♀️

Thank you for reading if you've made it this far! As with the last chapter, it helps so much putting my thought process into words, to make space in my head so that I can push forward with the writing. Thank you for indulging me, I hope you enjoyed this one ❤️ I'm always open to chatting, so don't be shy!

#behind the seams #fuckyeahseams #seams iv #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader

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barnesafterglow · 2 years

Text

the things you do

summary: steve just can't seem to keep you quiet - no matter who might be listening

pairing: fwb!steve rogers x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: modern au, lots of dirty talk, slight d/s aspects, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, light spanking, gagging with fingers (but like, in a hot way), bad decisions probably, surprise ending ;)

a/n: i meant to finish to post this on the first of october but my brain said no so sorry! even tho this took me a lot longer than i anticipated, i really like it. also it might connect to another prompt for kinktober eventually (wink wink)

join my kinktober taglist or follow my library blog @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated 🤍

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

read part two

“Shit,” you moaned, the feeling of the doorknob digging into your back only serving as more of a turn on for you. Steve couldn’t even wait to get through the front door before his hands were all over you. You hoped Mrs. Phillips wasn’t being nosy and looking out her peephole, otherwise she’d get a nice view of Steve pulling the front of your shirt down to leave bites along the swell of your breasts.

“Steve, we shouldn’t.”

“I don’t care.” His hand was on your throat, giving the slightest bit of pressure.

“Bucky’s home and -”

“I. Don’t. Care.” The pause between each word was punctuated with a squeeze to your throat. Not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know who was in charge. Finally, you relented with a small shake of your head, and he released his hand. “Good girl.”

Steve may like to take risks, but he wasn’t stupid. You both slipped your shoes off before opening the front door, and he swept you up, throwing you over his shoulder and he made his way towards his room.

You were scared and thrilled at the same time. You and Bucky had been broken up for over a year, but he still didn’t know you had been hooking up with his best friend for the last few weeks. It wasn’t planned, and you had never even seen Steve that way before. But he happened to be at the same bar as you and Natasha, and after one shot too many, you were making out in a dark corner. He came back to your apartment and the two of you passed out in your bed. The next morning, he fucked you in the shower, and then there was no turning back.

Once Steve had you face down on his bed - the door shut and locked - he lifted your hips up enough to push your skirt up and your underwear down. His large hands came down on your ass, spreading you open enough to let out a low moan, before one came down to land a smack.

“Steve,” you hissed, scared of how loud it echoed in the silent apartment. Steve promised you he would be quiet, because neither of you wanted Bucky to hear. You knew it would be a hard feat, considering their beds shared a wall, but you were too desperate for him to protest too much at the time.

Now, you turned over so you were facing him.

“You’re gonna have to try harder to keep quiet, Steve.” His face spread into an easy grin, happy to take the challenge. In one quick motion, he had your skirt off your legs and was sitting you up to pull your shirt off. Taking you in, he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“No bra tonight? It’s almost like you were planning to get fucked.” His voice sent shivers down your spine, and he grazed the goosebumps that had spread across your arms.

“I’m always planning on getting fuck when I see you,” you said, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. When you pulled back, your eyes fluttering as he bit your bottom lip, you realized you were completely bare to him while he was still wearing all of his clothes. You made a move to pull his shirt off, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head as he pushed you back into the mattress.

“Nuh uh,” he tsked. “If you wanna act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.”

You knew it was mostly talk; Steve liked to tease you and say absolutely filthy things, but he always took care of you. He couldn’t fully turn off that good boy charm even when he was fucking your brains out.

Deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine, you wiggled until he let your arms go, and climbed back until your head rested against his pillows. His eyes followed your every move as you spread your legs, slowly sliding your hands down your body until they came to rest on your inner thighs, slowly inching closer to your core.

He stood still, taking you in until he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Deciding the teasing wasn’t worth it, he stripped - slowly, because he knew your eyes were on him, even if he wasn’t looking - until he was standing as bare as you were. Your eyes were drawn downward, biting your own lip as he wrapped a hand around his hard cock, lightly stroking as he settled his knees on the bed, just in front of you.

You knew it was revenge for your own little show, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care all that much when he looked so goddamn good.

His hands reached down to move your own, where one had been slowly circling your clit, and pushed them up your body.

“Why don’t you play with those pretty tits and let me make you feel good, huh?” It wasn’t a question. It never was with Steve - he knew your limits and would push them to the very brim before he asked for more.

Not trusting your own voice, you nod, tweaking your nipples as he lowered himself onto his stomach, hooking his arms under your thighs before pulling you closer to him. He shifted, spreading your legs as far as they would go, and spit directly on your core.

You couldn’t contain the moan that left you, and had to slap your hand over your mouth. Simultaneously, Steve slapped your clit, causing your hips to jerk up.

“Thought you were gonna be quiet. Can’t be letting Buck hear how pretty his girl moans for.”

It shouldn’t turn you on so much, the way he casually brings up you ex and his best friend, but damn if it didn’t send a hot rush through your entire body.

“That’s what I thought,” were his last words before his face was buried between your legs.

Immediately, your hands flew to his hair, trying to pull him into you, but he slapped your thigh, looking up at you expectantly.

You whimpered, hating to disappoint him, and brought your hands back to your nipples. You could see the pleased shimmer in his eyes, and he rewarded you by sinking two fingers into you. The stretch caught you by surprise, and another moan fell from your lips. In one fluid motion - almost like he was expecting it - he reached up with his other hand and shoved two fingers in your mouth.

Keeping eye contact, you closed your lips around his thick fingers, sucking and swirling your tongue around them. When the fingers inside you crooked - hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars - you moaned despite yourself, and Steve’s other fingers pushed further in your mouth, gagging you. Keeping you quiet.

The coupled sensation was enough to push you over the edge, and the only reason you didn’t shout Steve’s name were the fingers still heavy on your tongue.

Steve took it upon himself then to pull back he rested his face on your inner thigh and watched the bliss on your face, feeling you squeeze around his finger still buried in you.

It wasn’t until you were drifting back to your body that Steve removed his fingers and crawled back up your body, placing sloppy kisses and teasing bites along the way. When his weight finally settled on top of yours, he brought one back to your mouth, tapping your lips until you opened up; you groaned as quietly as you could at the taste of yourself.

Finally, he kissed you again, filthy and sweet - the way only Steve could seem to make it - with one hand cupping your jaw and the other teasing his tip at your entrance.

“You want it, baby?” You nodded, still not trusting your voice. But that wasn’t enough. “Yeah? Then use your words.”

“Want you to fuck me,” you whispered, voicing cracking.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Fucking tease.

“Want you, Steve - fuck.” He took no time to bottom out in you, no warning and no time to adjust. He always said it made you squeeze him that much tighter.

“Fuck, Steve,” you yelped, loud. Too loud. He slapped his hand over your mouth and the both of you stilled, waiting for any sign of movement on the other side of the wall. When you both assumed the coast was clear, he started rolling his hips, just enough to grind deeper into you.

“If you can’t keep quiet, I’ll have to shove those pretty panties in your mouth.” He said it like a threat, like both of you wouldn’t get off on it, which he damn well knew was wrong.

You wanted to last - wanted him to last - but you couldn’t help it when he was rutting so far into you. You thought maybe one day you would get used to it, but he was so big you’d guess that nothing could ever prepare you for how well he fucked you.

He could always tell when you were close, said he’d never felt anything as tight as when your cunt squeezed around him while you were letting go, said he’d never seen eyes brighter than when you exploded for him. He sent you a look of warning, taking his hand away from your mouth just long enough to flip you over on your hands and knees.

His hand pushed your face into the mattress, ensuring your moans would be, at the very most, muffled. He quickened the speed of his thrusts, and you shattered apart around him.

“Fuck, baby. Such a good girl, coming on my cock like that.” You were clenching so tight you were worried he might not be able to move, but Steve Rogers lived to defy expectations. That included the filth he spewed, too. “Did Bucky fuck you this good, huh? I bet he didn’t.”

Something about the taboo of it all - Steve fucking you so hard you could swear you brain was broken, him being all but certain he was the best fuck of your life, all while Bucky was just a few feet away - caused you to come again.

Your second orgasm was too much for him to hold back, and he spilled into you with a shout, fucking you through it until the only sounds were your heavy breathing and your mixed releases.

He finally pulled out and, despite his best efforts to keep you stuffed full, you could feel the mess of him leak down your thigh.

You collapsed onto your stomach, hoping to at least catch your breath for a moment, but your lover had other plans.

“I hope you didn’t think we were done, sweetheart,” Steve teased before manhandling you on your back and burying his face between your thighs once more.

On the other side of the wall, Bucky squeezed hard around the base of his cock, trying to stave off his orgasm, because he knew you all would be going all night.

And just like every other time - even the ones when you all thought he was gone - he stroked himself to the sound of your moans, to the sounds of the rough, messy, fantastic sex going on in the other bedroom.

The kind of sex he missed, the kind of sex he wished he could join.

Maybe one day.

read part two here

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @sophiejayneevans @christywantspizza

#kinktober #kinktober 22 #tiff's kinktober #tiff writes #the things you do #steve rogers #steve fic #steve smut #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel #mcu #dirty talk prompt

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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 1 year

Text

Cozy in your arms

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!reader

Warning: none sexual nudity, baths, fluff

Summary: warming up in a bathtub big enough for two

„The bath is ready, my Lady” You smiled thankfully at the maid as she was making her way out of the room. You began to make yourself ready for your bath when you felt two strong arms enveloping your waist. “Going for a bath?” You felt his warm breath on your neck running down your back in chills.

Warm lips drifted up and down your soft skin. “Yes. I smell like a mixture of horse and smoke from the fire.” The lips, which reached the juncture where your shoulders met your neck, smirked. “I don’t mind, dear wife.” You huffed out a laugh, “I know. But I know, dearest husband.”

Robb turned you by your waist so you would face him. “Are you implying something, dearest wife?” He raised his chestnut brow. You giggled as he leaned down to attack your lips with his. Robb wanted to deepen the kiss further but was blocked by you. “I really need this bath, Robb. Maybe you too.” Robb chuckled as you wiggled out of his arms. “As you wish, my queen.” You turned to him and glared at him. “I am no queen. As far as I can remember the north still bends its knee to Westeros ant the stags.” “Maybe one day it won’t be that way.” Your eyes narrowed further.

You reached for the soaps and oils you needed to get all the dirt from your body. Robb started to shed his first layers of clothing. “I hope you invited me to take this bath with you.” You looked up and nodded. “It’s late and warming up cold water is always such a tedious process. Let the servants and maids rest. They already protested that the bath water won’t be brought out after we finished.” Robb chuckled as you talked about the agreement between you and the maids. You began to rid yourself of your clothes as you were satisfied with the placing of the bath utensils.

Robb watched you as you undressed yourself and carefully folded all your clothes into a pile you put on a chair in the corner of your room. You felt eyes on your body and looked over your shoulder. “What are you looking at. Nothing you haven’t seen.” Robb chuckled. He walked up to you in all his naked glory and took your hands in his bigger ones. “Can’t I admire my wife’s ethereal beauty.” He kissed your temple softly, lingering there for a few seconds. “I would commit blasphemy against the old gods just to worship at your altar, my love.” You looked at him with adoration. “Stop saying such things. Maybe one of them listens on what you are saying and will strike you down. Or they will curse us both.” Robb just smirked, like he would take your saying as a challenge.

With the help of your husband you stepped into the tub filled with warm water. It chilled down a bit. Not nearly boiling as before. You scooted at the edge of the wooden tub and waited for Robb to join you.

Robb pouted as he saw your position but stepped in after you. “I wanted to hold you in my arms.” You snorted out a laugh at his childishness. You kissed his shoulder as you wrapped yourself around him. “Well I want to be held by you when we are in bed. Now I want to wrap around you.”

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#robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark x y/n #robb stark imagine #robb stark x you #robb stark fanfiction #robb stark fic

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coco-loco-nut · 2 years

Text

A Little Less Hazardous

pairing: bob x reader

short fic, just some fluff

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masterlist

_____

You were a female Maverick. That’s all there was to it. You never even met the man until you were called back to TOPGUN. He immediately liked you, and Admiral Simpson kindly used your call sign to refer to you.

“She’s a hazard to all the pilots up there, much like you are, Maverick,” you overheard him say one day. It’s not a lie, you and your plane had a special bond. You were a team, pushing each other’s limits. You took risks that you knew your plane could handle, often not thinking of other things in the sky like general safety.

No one really saw your relationship with Bob coming, but they do say that opposites attract. You both flew in the same squadron and had been secretly together for years. The pilots found out by accident. While he trusts you on the ground, he is very happy that he isn’t your WSO. You take it as a compliment.

The late afternoon Florida sun creeps into the window of your bedroom, the smell of the fresh ocean air flows through the open window, tickling your nose. It mixes perfectly with the musk of Bob’s cologne. You both had the day off and you spent it doing the second thing you do best. Sleep. Bob has one arm barely around your waist, sort of spooning you, but it’s too hot for the cuddling. The alarm you both set to let you know when you wasted most of the day goes off, prompting you to subconsciously seek Bob out and cuddle into him. He turns off the alarm and pressed featherlight kisses to your hair.

You both were enjoying a short detachment to train until you returned to Lemoore. Bob watches your eyebrows slightly furrow in thought as he strokes your hair.

“What’s going through that pretty little head of yours? Talk to me,” he says softly, his southern accent soothing.

“Does my flying scare you? Some people refuse to fly with me because I’m too much like Maverick,” you whisper, having come off a bad flight day the previous day.

Bob let’s put a soft sigh, mulling over his thoughts. “I’m not gonna lie and say it doesn’t scare me. I’m scared every time, because I don’t wanna lose you. But, I love the way your face lights up when someone says, ‘It might be dangerous.’ You love a challenge and I know you can handle anything,” Bob stares into your eyes and you feel a little bit better. He later claims that that was the moment he decided he was going to marry you.

“I’m still a hazard. I know I am. I fly like that on purpose. I just wish people knew,” you whisper.

“They will. One day,” he promises, his hand rubbing lazy circles on you hip below the thin sheet.

The next time you flew with Maverick, you refined your skills, showing more deliberate moves instead of wild ones while being your ‘hazardous self’. Bob updated you on some compliments he overheard. Maybe the training assignment wasn’t so bad. Even seasoned pilots have more to learn.

“Good job, Kid. It seems as if you have taught me something as well,” he pats your shoulder and smiles.

“When did Hazard become less of a hazard?” Fanboy asks Bob, who just smiles affectionately at you and shrugs.

“Still one damn good pilot,” he comments, admiring your suppressed expression of joy.

“Thank you,” you whisper to no one in particular, maybe the universe. Bob walks up to you and holds your hand, accompanying you to the locker room, the ring in his pocket waiting for the right moment. A moment very soon.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob top gun #short fluff #short fic #fluff

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smoshpvnk · 4 months

Text

Damien x Shayne Ship Questions (from @zillaphoneswag)

Who is the cuddler?

Damien

Who makes the bed?

Shayne

Who wakes up first?

Shayne

Who has the weird taste in music?

Damien

Who is more protective?

Damien

Who sings in the shower?

Both

Who cries during movies?

Both depending on the movie

Who kisses more roughly?

Shayne, maybe…???

Who is more dominant?

Damien ofc

Who is the most affectionate?

Damien (I can literally give one hundred examples)

Most common argument?

Silly: video games, serious: challenging each other’s thoughts almost therapeutically about body image, guilt and shame, habits, etc

Who apologizes first?

Damien, just bc he’s a very apologetic person, but Shayne wouldn’t have any reason to withhold apologies either

Favorite (non-sexual) activity to do together?

Video games, cooking, silently working on projects side by side

Who drives and who rides shotgun?

I think Damien would more often as a gentleman but idk (I’m recovering from driving phobia, I would be curious what their driving journeys looked like. Were they eager to get behind the wheel, or anxious?”

Who is most likely to carry the other?

Damien (for reference)

Nicknames?

For Damien: Dames, Dee, Damienuh, babe, honey, dude, man, idiot, nerd, weeb (probably)

For Shayne: Shay, Shanyé, baby boy, baby bird, babe/baby, hun/honey, my guy, angel, darling (tbh, anything to get him to blush or laugh)

(bonus: scrub, dumbass, sweetheart, good boy, pet, puppy)

Who proposes?

Damien (either, but my heart says…)

Who sings along with the radio?

Both

Who worries the most?

Damien, but both

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Damien

Who is embarrassed to take their clothes off in front of the other?

Both, at first

Who tops?

Damien

Who initiates kisses?

Both, mostly Damien (he’s so touchy. his love language is touch)

Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Damien

Who is more ticklish?

Shayne

Who brings home an animal they found?

Damien

Who holds the umbrella for the other when it rains?

Damien

Who tries to playfully embarrass the other in public?

Damien

Who kills the scary bugs?

(Damien seems more KILL IT, Shayne is more well let’s at least try to release it outside)

Who asks weird questions at random in the middle of the night?

Damien

Who hogs the blankets?

Shayne

Who wants to stay in bed just a bit longer?

Damien (but both if they’re together)

Who always makes coffee for the other in the morning?

Shayne (only because he probably got up first)

Who says “I love you” first?

Damien

Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

Shayne is very casual about it even though his friends/family are excited, sappy and want to make it a bigger deal. Damien is nervous and makes it a bigger deal than it needs to be and feels a wave of relief after finally admitting it

Who is more likely to ask the other to dance with them?

Damien

Who cooks best?

Shayne

Who wears the other’s jacket?

Shayne

Who uses cheesy pickup lines?

Both

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Both

Who makes the other one laugh the most?

Damien

Who needs more reassurance?

Damien

Who would have to bail the other out of jail?

Shayne

What would be their theme song?

Rather Be or Glue Song

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Text or call with life updates and sappy sweet nothings

Who eats the other’s uneaten pizza crusts?

Damien

Who would accidentally set the kitchen on fire while cooking?

Damien

Who would throw the other into a pool?

Shayne

Who is the morning/night person?

Shayne - morning, Damien, night

Who gives the other person cool-looking rocks?

Damien

Who is the big spoon? Who is the little spoon?

Damien - big, Shayne - little

Who talks smack when playing video games and then loses?

Shayne

Who wants to take lots of pictures of them together?

Damien (have you seen how often Shayne is on his instagram)

Who is most excited to tell their friends they’re dating?

Damien

Who still blushes when they say ‘I love you?’

Shayne

Who is the protective one?

Damien

Who likes to jump into the other person’s arms?

Shayne

Who likes to take artsy photos together?

Damien

What do they like to watch together after a long day?

Anime, probably

Who is most likely to kiss the other on the cheek?

Damien

Who is most likely to break out in a spontaneous dance?

Shayne

Who would sing a love song to the other in the car?

Damien

Who can’t help but giggle when the other compliments them?

Shayne

What do they say to one another before they go to sleep?

“I hate you” (affectionate)

Who looks at the other person like they are their world when they’re not looking?

Damien

Who would win in a pillow fight?

Shayne

Who loves to be held the most?

Shayne

Who asks the other how to spell a word?

Damien

Who loves to have the other rest their head on their chest?

Both

Who makes funny faces to make the other person laugh?

Shayne

Who puts their hand on their partner's knee while driving?

Damien

Who goofs around in the kitchen more?

Damien

How do they say “I love you” without really saying it?

Damien: “I’m proud of you”

Shayne: “Remember when…”

What would they marathon?

Anime, probably

What would their wedding song be?

Starlight by Muse

Who nuzzles into the other?

Both

Who kisses the other on the head before they go to sleep?

Damien

What position do they fall asleep in when sleeping in the same bed?

One laying on top of the other is my favorite trope, so Shayne crushing Damien

Who initiates the first kiss?

Damien

Who asks the other out on the first date?

Damien

Who gets the other out of a speeding ticket?

Shayne

Who sleeps with their dog cat when the other one is gone?

Damien

Who still has the first gift the other gave to them?

Both

Who likes to see the other wearing their sweater?

Damien

Who is the sleepy cute one?

Shayne

Who gives the other person the best cards?

Both give either funny, possibly cursed cards or extremely sentimental and heartfelt, there is no in between.

Who gives a hilarious speech at their wedding about how they met?

Damien (see: Shayne’s graduation)

Who has a vast knowledge of random facts?

Damien

Who likes to clean?

Shayne

Who would be a lovey-dovey drunk?

Shayne

Who can’t stop laughing at their own jokes?

Shayne

Who distracts the driver by being a bit too provocative in the car?

Shayne

Who is the competitive one?

Shayne (Damien’s argument: there’s no need to be competitive if you’re just good)

Who asks the other’s parents for their partner’s hand in marriage?

Damien

Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?

Shayne

Who worries more about the other?

Damien

Who is more likely to lock themselves out of the house?

Shayne (Damien can just lock pick, and has facetimed Shayne to teach him before)

Who would slide down the hall in their socks?

I can picture both doing this. nerds

Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place?

(…both)

Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on?

1) Shayne 2) Damien

Who takes photos of the other while they sleep?

Damien

Who likes flower crowns more?

Shayne

Who is the meme lover?

Both

Who has to teach the other how to fold a fitted sheet?

Shayne

Who’s afraid of thunderstorms?

Neither, but on a sensitive day, Damien, which of course Shayne is receptive of and gives extra affection and care

Who cries over the ASPCA commercials?

Damien

Who considers the other the love of their life?

#ship questions #did this on my phone at 5am #shaymien #rpf #smosh ships #shipping #txt #prompts #shayne #damien #p

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cyberghu0l · 1 year

Text

Take a Break

Prt. 2

Your wife, Shuri had been staying up in her lab the past couple nights and not paying you attention as she use to. She realizes she must pay you close mind after you give birth to your twins.

You turned over as the sun kissed your delicate face. The changes of giving birth was just starting to surprise you, first was waking up without having to worry about squishing two other lives inside you. Your eyes fluttered open taking in the scene in front of you. Your wife holding one of the pair, playing with his fingers.

You smiled as you bludded up in the blankets. "They are handsome." She spoke. You thought about your next words carefully. You love Shuri to death, but missing your children's birth was unforgivable. "Where were you, Shuri." She set the newborn back down and sat next to you on the bed.

"What I did was unforgivable and you don't have to hear out any of my excuses." You listened as she explained herself. It was a constant routine you two went through, her explaining and you forgiving. "I was in the worst pain of my life, and I needed my wife with me. I didn't need the panther, or queen of Wakanda, I just needed Shuri." You sat up, swallowing the tears daring to fall.

"And you weren't there, I had Okoye in your place. And before her it was Ayo, and before her it was the caretakers, and before her it was your mother. Everyone but you Shuri. What is going on?" Your voice raised an octave. She'd never seen this side of you. It hurt her to see she made you this way, and wanted to do anything she could to help. She would give you the world if she could.

"My love. You know all that I do and that isn't an excuse." You began to get up from bed and getting dressed. Her stories were getting old and you were getting annoyed. "It is not." She followed you to your closet. "It never occurred to me how long I've been spending at my work, I just want everything to be right and perfect." You turned around facing her.

"Everything you make is right and perfect, you shouldn't be working down there for hours to the point where you miss the birth of your kids." Shuri sighed. "Can you come with me?" You finished putting on a shirt and leggings. "Where?" Your wife smiled sneakily and grabbed your hand. "The twins?" "I'll have someone look after them." You had no other choice but to follow her wherever you were going. It was still in the palace, that was the only thing you knew.

At some point you two stopped at a door with a key pad next to it. Shuri typed in a pin and and the door opened. The room was light brown with paintings of black panthers, Shuri, her mother, father, and T'Challa. There were two cribs set in one corner, and a box of toys next to a play set in another corner. Along with other things for a newborn's care. "When did you do all of this?" You walked around amazed.

The queen stood at the door frame watching your movements. "All day, all night. It was a bit challenging building a room right under ours." Then it hit you. You only went down one floor, and the view out the window was the same. "That's why you were gone for so long?"

"Sadly."

"But the windows, and the babies?" You thought back to the attack on the palace and how Namor had killed her mother. "The whole palace has been updated with 2 protective barriers and protective windows that can stand against even my blasts." You looked back at her surprised. You loved the gesture and loved her even more for it. In the back of your head you still hated how not even Okoye could get a hold of her.

"Usana." You walked to her wrapping your arms around her neck. She looked at you sweetly. "You need to update me, please. I was hurt and terrified. If you are going to be in the twins life, you need to actually be here." Just as you finished, Shuri brought her forehead to yours. She sighed deeply, holding onto your waist. "I know I know. I will spending time with them and you."

"And no more staying up late in the lab. Anything you make works perfectly fine." She pulled away looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. "Just because something works does not mean it cannot be improve." "Well you can start with improving my sleep schedule, you're on night duty for the twins." Her eyes widened. "Yes, no words." She laughed at your orders.

"Ndiyakuthanda, uthando." She pecked your soft lips. "Ndiyakuthanda, uthando"

◇◇◇

It's been 4 years and the boys were now 4. Shuri's night duty continued until they were 2, she insisted after she felt bad for leaving you alone for all that time. Since then, it's only been date nights, and days spent with just the four of you. It took a couple of months for you two to start the naming process, but when you did you settled on Zoloni and Zandi.

Being the incredibly intelligent parents you both were, you thought that telling them apart would be a breeze, but everyday it became harder and harder.

You woke up to a giggle coming from your bed. You turned over and saw a bump in the covers between yourself and Shuri. You tapped her awake and pointed to the giggling bump. She pulled the cover up revealing one of the pair. A loud laugh filled the room as your wife pulled him into her lap. "Who is this? Interrupting my sleep." He giggled again.

"Oh noo, you know what happens when you wake mother." You looked at him with a sly smile, he watched Shuri's eyes closely for her next move and didn't expect her to tickle him. His laugh grew louder. Once she stopped, she asked him, "Now, why are you up so early Zoloni?" His expression dropped, instantly being replaced with a pout. "I'm not Zoloni." Shuri furrowed her eyebrows.

"But you have his laugh." You chuckled. "They are twins, my love." Then the second of the pair popped up next to you scaring you a bit. "I am Zoloni." You sat the other in your lap. "No, you are Zandi." You remembered their faces perfectly. Zandi was getting Shuri's nose slowly but surely. And Zoloni had a beauty mark on his forehead.

"Nope, you're Zandi and you're..." You now had it mixed up. The twins started laughing as they looked at their moms. Shuri caught on. "I am holding Zoloni." He giggled to himself. You chuckledtealizing the trickyou two fell into. "Let us go get breakfast before the Black Panther comes for you!" You shouted as the pair got up running, Shuri following close after them.

nothing too bad, wanted to end off with some fluff bcs why not. and we can all agree mom Shuri would be the cutest. and don't say any bs abt two girls having babies, shuri smart asf and probably figured out a safe way😒anyways hope you all enjoyed it, ill prob be doing series in the future so lmk what you guys think<33

#black panther #black reader #black y/n #letitia wright #lgbtq #shuri black panther #shuri fluff #shuri udaku #shuri udaku x reader #shuri x black!reader #marvel black panther #marvel mcu #marvel fluff #shuri x you #shuri angst

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